The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, the morning is fresh and new, and here I sit. My son bounces in his jumperoo with enthusiasm and my daughter whines at being confined in her swing, while I pound away my many thoughts on this poor, unassuming computer. One of my greatest trials along this winding road of motherhood is finding the motivation to do things that need to be done, let alone things that I want to get done. The list is seemingly endless. My husband is starting to make comments regarding the cluttered state of our humble abode. And I am learning the hard way that if you do not stay on top of things, the task becomes overwhelming and is easier left undone. Pictures are piling up in a lonely corner, desperately longing to be compiled into some semblance of order. The keyboard sits forlone and forgotten, begging me to touch its keys once again. Caleb stares out the window, squealing at the world going by and looking at me with those big beautiful eyes as he signs, "aside?" And instead of taking a step, and plunging in... I take a shovel, and dig myself even deeper into this rut of indescisive longing. 'Oh, if only these things were done' I think to myself. Or better yet, where is the motivation that once consumed my being?
Perhaps it was sucked away by the demanding expectations of my small family. Or rather the lack of appreciation for my daily efforts to complete the menial tasks that now govern my life. All I seem to gain from feeding, changing, and bathing my two young children, is screaming demands for more. A part of me thrives, knowing that this is what I always wanted. And yet there is a part of me that is envious of my husband's skipping step as he goes to a workplace where he is acknowledged and appreciated for all he does. I know that this will pass, and I will most likely miss this small window of time in my life. And it is because of that that I wake up each morning, don a smile, and drink my energy inducing coffee, ready to face yet another day. And perhaps one day I will experience the "motivational motherhood" everyone else seems to possess in copious amounts. Until another day...
Perhaps it was sucked away by the demanding expectations of my small family. Or rather the lack of appreciation for my daily efforts to complete the menial tasks that now govern my life. All I seem to gain from feeding, changing, and bathing my two young children, is screaming demands for more. A part of me thrives, knowing that this is what I always wanted. And yet there is a part of me that is envious of my husband's skipping step as he goes to a workplace where he is acknowledged and appreciated for all he does. I know that this will pass, and I will most likely miss this small window of time in my life. And it is because of that that I wake up each morning, don a smile, and drink my energy inducing coffee, ready to face yet another day. And perhaps one day I will experience the "motivational motherhood" everyone else seems to possess in copious amounts. Until another day...
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