The pics are from a 3a.m. photobooth session with Josie. She scheduled a playdate for this time every night this week. (I look happy, but I assure you I. am. not.) The poor girl has been teething something fierce. Oh why must teething be so rough on these little ones? I heard somewhere that teething would feel unbearable for adults, I try to keep that in mind at 3 in the morning.
How can it be the sixth of November already? How is there snow on the ground?
These days are a blur. I fight like mad to get through them, and then fight like mad to hold on to them, to enjoy them, to savour these long, exhausting, precious days . . .
. . . the days that do not end . . .
they only cycle,
over and over and over . . .
I know this will sound like I am complaining, but I'm not (okay maybe just a little) or have a martyr-complex (I suppose I do), or that I am exaggerating (I'm not) . . .
My kids do not sleep.
(go ahead, tell me it's because I don't let them cry it out).
3 kids who don't sleep= waking up, oh, MANY times a night.
Add to that a teething infant,
two big kids who don't nap, can't seem to fall asleep until I do . . .
and then wake up all night long
always too early,
and then it all
There is no pause in my life right now.
No moment when I am not being touched, pulled, needed.
Oh, and Jim is commuting to work in Cleveland . . .
and did I mention we're trying to sell our house?
I am telling myself this more than anything . . .
because somedays . . . a lot of days . . . I wonder why I don't have more to show for my life?
How do other moms do it all?
the kids, the house, the healthy meals . . .
and still find time for their own dreams? Their own career?
How is another year almost past and I am still . . .
just keeping up?
hoping for a few hours of sleep?
telling myself that next year I. will. do. it.
I'll go back to school
I'll serve more.
I'll write the novel.
I'll paint again.
I'll . . .
I really hoped to do NaNoWriMo this year.
I considered trying . . .
during one of those middle of the night playdates with the girl,
when I am irrational
and too tired to sleep
and anything seems possible.
And then I thought, well, I'll at least do NaBloPoMo.
It is Nov.6,
this is my first blog post.
I tell myself that a real writer . . . artist . . . whatever . . . would be able to push through, stay up all night, find a way to make it work . ..
I'm already up all night.
And you know what I have decided to do about it?
Let it go.
The ambitions, the goals, the guilt . ..
Maybe there will be another day, another season.
I don't want these days to be any more hurried than they already are . . .
I want to be fully present,
and I have never been good at living in two places at once . . .
So here's to NaBloPoMo . . .
beginning on day 6 . . .
I'll still try to post every day this month,
just for fun,
and when I don't,
*Related, I loved this post . . . My Life is Not My Own)
**Oh, and I do have some fun things to blog about this month, including at least one really great giveaway!
(in other news, look who finally took the time to learn how to make a blog header!)