Once Upon A Time

There was a time when...
...I went to bed when I wanted, knowing I'd sleep all night.
...the children I loved went home at the end of the day.
...running was a fun hobby I pursued at my convenience.
...a day at the beach was spent sunbathing and reading.
...I napped when I was tired.
...I drove my car and listened to my music.
...I ate complete meals, sometimes while reading. (egads!)

...but things have changed, my friends!!! There are now four parts of "me". Any part missing and my day is not so complete, my time not so well-spent, my chores not done so purposefully. If the boys and I go to the beach we will have a great time, but Daddy makes the day so much more fun. If Daddy takes the boys on an adventure I can't wait for them to come home.

Folding laundry is satisfying because all the tiny clothes are where they should be, waiting to be pulled onto warm little bodies and Daddy has all of his necessities for the week. I am taking care of them. My family has clean, minimally wrinkled, put-away clothes because I am in the world. I spend so much time, too much perhaps, planning our menus and grocery lists; I make most meals and supervise all baking; a task some never would have thought I'd be up to. But there it is, I can cook. And my family likes it. I am the mistress of our kitchen. (Don't worry, it's only been 3 1/2 years, I'll get better.)

I didn't know it would be like this. I have a sippy cup drawer and Goldfish in my pantry and my place is here.

Now...
...runs and exercise must be scheduled into my day, if they happen at all.
...trips to the toilet haven't been solo since December, 2003.
...I don't recline, I sit on the edge of chairs ready to jump at a cry of "mama!"
...sleep is welcome, but not always possible.
...car rides are spent singing all "Veggie Tales" and Sunday school songs - motions, too!
...a day at the beach is playing in the sand, rescuing potential drown victims, and laughing.
...phone conversations are choppy, at best.

Someday in the not-too-distant future we will go on vacation and I will sit in a lawn chair reading. There will be silence for a few minutes, then the kids will appear at the edge of my vision playing some game or other. I will smile and then I'll tilt my head in thought; they won't need me anymore like they do now. There will be no risk of them running into the street. They'll make up their own games. They'll be able to dig huge holes in the sand without my expertise. The sand won't be eaten. If they choke on something it will be an obscure occurence, not the norm. I won't have jelly stains on my shirt from clinging little fingers.

I think I like my "now".