Some Days

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Please don’t ever ask me why my house isn’t clean. Don’t lift your eyebrows at my piles of laundry. Don’t purse your lips when you see we are having noodles and applesauce for dinner.

Again.

Don’t ever let your mouth form your breath into the question “What exactly do you do all day?”

I can hear your judgement as you say “It must be nice.”

Our time here is just a series of moments strung together on the fine gold thread of existence. Sometimes those moments that make up your day are ugly, not something you would choose to adorn yourself with. They are full of hot tears from anger or frustration. They hold echoes of words spoken from unkindness, resentment, or bitterness. You look back at these moments and that’s what you see and, despite looking so hollow, they are terribly heavy moments. As this life we are stringing together hangs on our necks, these days make it hard to lift your head up and see the beauty that will surely come again. Choosing happiness and gratitude can be so difficult then.

Today I am feeling like so few of those good moments are actually and wholly my own. I am dedicated to keeping a small tribe of reckless children, hellbent on destroying everything as they learn those boundaries, from coming to harm. I wish I could dedicate more of my brainpower to creating something for myself. For sewing. For painting, reading, or photography instead of refilling sippy cups and making food no one will eat and grocery shopping and picking up the toys for the 34th time in a day.

There is a part of me that says I have so much more to offer. I’m not saying that being a stay at home mom is beneath me. Some days it would just be nice to leave for a job that expanded on this. I wish I had coworkers with which to discuss ideas. It can get so mind numbingly lonely without that interaction. I know one day I will find more space in my life for these pursuits but right now, today, I worry that the small and fragile flame that is that part of me will be suffocated by the banality.

I don’t know. I might just need better coping skills or to shift my view. Lift up my head despite the weight. Or maybe I just need some new fabric and art supplies. And a few more hours in my day.

 

5 thoughts on “Some Days

  1. It gets better. I honestly have no idea where the last 25 years went. Hang on to your desires, believe it or not you will get to use them sooner than you think.

  2. Were the children helping to cook or bake? I’m snickering at the photo of the broken eggs with little thumb holes. My granddaughters love to help bake. Usually we make cupcakes. We have had our share of broken eggs which is why I’m giggling. 🙂

    Carol

  3. I admire your honesty. Is it weird to think we could have some amazing conversation? When I read your words I feel like you are speaking for me at times!

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