Most days, I am incredibly grateful for my life.
I am grateful for my gorgeous, healthy, funny babies.
I am grateful I only have to work 15 hours a week, thus leaving me so much time to be home to play with them, watch them learn and grow... just be with them.
Most days I truly enjoy my life where it is at this moment.
But every once in awhile, when we are having one of those days...where both babies are ridiculously fussy, I am exhausted to the bone, the house is in disarray, where when what worked yesterday is so not working today, and we just can't seem to find our groove...I find myself remembering my past days. And not necessarily longing for them, but remembering them...fondly. I remember the sleep and the order and the quiet and the sleep and the way the house stayed clean for days on end and the sleep and the way I just went to work each day and rarely felt inadequate or felt the weight of questioning if how I was handling a situation was going to seriously impair someones ability to be a functioning member of society later in life.
This term David is home a lot more, which is not great for the paycheck, but fantastic for the family time. And last week it allotted me some time for some things that haven't happened in over a year.
Monday morning when the twins awoke, I got up and nursed them, and then went back to bed until 10:00am.
10:00am.
Then he took them for an hour and a half long bike ride, while I stayed home. It was only the second time I have been alone in our house.
I cleaned our house from top to bottom. I scrubbed it good, and restored order to areas that had been neglected over the last few months.
And then I sat, unsure of what to do with myself.
Around the one hour mark from their departure, I found myself looking out the front window to see if they were coming home.
I smiled as I realized, I missed them.
The quiet just didn't suit me like it used to.
On Wednesday my company had a very important 8:00am meeting that I really wanted to attend. I only work afternoons on Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, but since David was home Wednesday morning, I was able to go. I got up and nursed my babies, got ready for work, and kissed them goodbye.
As I sat in 7:40am freeway traffic with so much of the world on their morning commute, I drummed my work-lady (painted) nails to the song playing on my favorite radio station. I glanced down at my giant coffee tumbler in the cup holder and thought how much this felt like old times. Like the past Kendra. I hadn't connected with her in so long. It felt kinda good. This I knew how to do.
I worked my usual 5 hour work day, and as I walked the distance to my car to leave that afternoon, I couldn't help but realize I was smiling at the thought of returning to my house. To my home. To my family. To the clutter and the noise and the frustration. To the minutiae of sippy cups and diaper changes and re-stacking the books on the bookshelf for the 10th time in one day. To the role that feels so pressing so much of the time.
I couldn't help but think of the gift that I had just been given.
There is so much beauty in knowing that I'd choose it all over again.
I am grateful for my gorgeous, healthy, funny babies.
I am grateful I only have to work 15 hours a week, thus leaving me so much time to be home to play with them, watch them learn and grow... just be with them.
Most days I truly enjoy my life where it is at this moment.
But every once in awhile, when we are having one of those days...where both babies are ridiculously fussy, I am exhausted to the bone, the house is in disarray, where when what worked yesterday is so not working today, and we just can't seem to find our groove...I find myself remembering my past days. And not necessarily longing for them, but remembering them...fondly. I remember the sleep and the order and the quiet and the sleep and the way the house stayed clean for days on end and the sleep and the way I just went to work each day and rarely felt inadequate or felt the weight of questioning if how I was handling a situation was going to seriously impair someones ability to be a functioning member of society later in life.
This term David is home a lot more, which is not great for the paycheck, but fantastic for the family time. And last week it allotted me some time for some things that haven't happened in over a year.
Monday morning when the twins awoke, I got up and nursed them, and then went back to bed until 10:00am.
10:00am.
Then he took them for an hour and a half long bike ride, while I stayed home. It was only the second time I have been alone in our house.
I cleaned our house from top to bottom. I scrubbed it good, and restored order to areas that had been neglected over the last few months.
And then I sat, unsure of what to do with myself.
Around the one hour mark from their departure, I found myself looking out the front window to see if they were coming home.
I smiled as I realized, I missed them.
The quiet just didn't suit me like it used to.
On Wednesday my company had a very important 8:00am meeting that I really wanted to attend. I only work afternoons on Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, but since David was home Wednesday morning, I was able to go. I got up and nursed my babies, got ready for work, and kissed them goodbye.
As I sat in 7:40am freeway traffic with so much of the world on their morning commute, I drummed my work-lady (painted) nails to the song playing on my favorite radio station. I glanced down at my giant coffee tumbler in the cup holder and thought how much this felt like old times. Like the past Kendra. I hadn't connected with her in so long. It felt kinda good. This I knew how to do.
I worked my usual 5 hour work day, and as I walked the distance to my car to leave that afternoon, I couldn't help but realize I was smiling at the thought of returning to my house. To my home. To my family. To the clutter and the noise and the frustration. To the minutiae of sippy cups and diaper changes and re-stacking the books on the bookshelf for the 10th time in one day. To the role that feels so pressing so much of the time.
I couldn't help but think of the gift that I had just been given.
There is so much beauty in knowing that I'd choose it all over again.
2 comments:
So true and introspective.
I've had days like that too. Saturday, in fact- when I went shopping after the multiples sale and got home hours later.
I agree with the end of your post100%.
I love how much you share your life and thoughts in your blog. Thank you so much, Kendra.
Love, Aunt Carol
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