When I came home I was a whole new woman. For two-ish hours no one hollered at me or demanded my attention or made a huge mess or cried, whined, yelled or gnashed their teeth*. For two-ish hours, I had complete control over the
I wish I could say I had something huge planned today to do with my new-found energy, renewed vigor and general delightful-tude (It's a word, I made it up, feel free to borrow it). But the truth is, I might not do housework today either. I might curl up and finish the 8 books I'm reading (literally, I have 8 books going). I might listen to talk radio and watch Fox News (because it's gettin to be that time of year y'all). I might go borrow the neighbor's hose and spray everyone down until they beg for mercy. Or I might (in the immortal words of Dr Phil), suck on a rock and stare at the sun. And that's okay. One of the things I've learned about myself while dealing with this funk, is that I put a lot of pressure on myself to get "enough" done or to be "enough" or blah blah blah. So sometimes I just need to tell myself that whatever I do or do not do, it is okay. It it is plenty. It is in absolutely no way a reflection on the kind of wife or mother I am. It is not a reflection on how much I love my family. It is not a reflection on my work ethic. It does not reflect on me at all.
*Okay to be fair, there was some whining and crying, but they were all other people's children.*
Note: I promise at some point we're going to get back to the shenanigans around here. There is much to talk about between growing boys, company, first birthdays, 10 year anniversaries and special birthday vacations.