On living in the moment
One day, years ago, I was making the typical elevator small talk with a fellow associate, based on the whole "how many days until the weekend" shpiel. I believe it was a Wednesday. He mentioned that he used to think that way, until one day he realized that it's pointless to spend the whole week wishing it were the weekend, and so he tried to focus on enjoying the week as well.
I suppose it may sound Pollyanna-ish to some, but he had a great point that I've tried to incorporate in my daily outlook on life. Some days are better than others.
So when the girls had been "high needs" all weekend, and I crawled groggily out of bed Monday morning having spent a late night soothing a despondant Peanut and nursing an early-teething Claire only to find a vomiting husband, it was with mixed feelings that I called in a vacation day to stay home and nurse the three of them in varying guises.
I am grateful to have healthy, normal children. Healthy, normal children that are capable of ransaking the house and eating nonstop and being whiny and demanding and cute and funny and silly and generally nonstop nervewracking. I love children, always have, and remind myself on a regular basis that these years are precious and will pass quickly, even as I'm holding in a primal scream and thinking "I didn't sign up for this!"
Never have I been so happy to be back at work as I was Tuesday morning. Full-time at-home parents, my hat is off to you, as always.
And now, when the house is quiet, and I look at the cherubicly chubby face of my almost three month old (already!) sleeping on my lap, I wonder what all the franticness was about. Live in the moment indeed.
I suppose it may sound Pollyanna-ish to some, but he had a great point that I've tried to incorporate in my daily outlook on life. Some days are better than others.
So when the girls had been "high needs" all weekend, and I crawled groggily out of bed Monday morning having spent a late night soothing a despondant Peanut and nursing an early-teething Claire only to find a vomiting husband, it was with mixed feelings that I called in a vacation day to stay home and nurse the three of them in varying guises.
I am grateful to have healthy, normal children. Healthy, normal children that are capable of ransaking the house and eating nonstop and being whiny and demanding and cute and funny and silly and generally nonstop nervewracking. I love children, always have, and remind myself on a regular basis that these years are precious and will pass quickly, even as I'm holding in a primal scream and thinking "I didn't sign up for this!"
Never have I been so happy to be back at work as I was Tuesday morning. Full-time at-home parents, my hat is off to you, as always.
And now, when the house is quiet, and I look at the cherubicly chubby face of my almost three month old (already!) sleeping on my lap, I wonder what all the franticness was about. Live in the moment indeed.
