I love my kids so much it hurts. When someone is mean to them it physically pains me. When I drop them off at school I instantly miss them. When I drive home from teaching at night I chant, "baby baby baby baby...etc." because I am aching to hold my baby after a few short hours away from him.
But tonight my arms are aching because I have held him all day because he has a little cold and I have his dry boogers on my sleeve and I had to threaten the two older ones with their most beloved stuffed animals being taken away just so they would stay in bed for crying out loud so I could have a minute without them to wind down for the night.
I need to check on Asher in a few minutes to make sure his fever has broken and I need to get Jonah out of my spot on the bed so I can crash before waking up in the night to feed him and then getting up right after that to feed the kids breakfast and lather, rinse, repeat.
It's actually quite a blessed life and exactly what I signed up for and oh-so-very sweet, but when I closed my eyes tonight for a few minutes before Jonah fussed to be nursed some more, I longed with all my heart to wake up tomorrow to no responsibility. No one needing a single thing from me. Nothing but a day at any beach at all with not even a book to read- just the sound of the waves and the salty air whipping through my carefree mind. I wouldn't break-up a single fight, appease any tantrums, or try to figure out what anyone wants.
Is that just absolutely terrible? Because I feel horrible for admitting it because who do I live and breathe for and long to be with when they aren't in the safe reach of my eager arms? My kids. And husband. All those beautiful boys.
Growing babies and giving birth has aged me, ruined my figure in exhausting and sometimes disappointing ways, and also made me completely whole and given my heart a whole new dimension I didn't know I had before. It bursts and twists and bleeds and leaps all the time at the sound of their voices and in their successes and needs. I am so frustrated with the way I look right now, and yet I know exactly how I got here and I am proud of what my body has accomplished.
When they are fighting and disobeying I wonder how I could ever want a fourth child and in the same instant I am heartbroken at the thought of no more children. How are two such polar opposite desires possible? It's maddening.
So this is motherhood. At least for me. My heart has been broken into three beautiful, wild little pieces. Two of them run around demanding this and delighting with that and the other rolls around a little and cries out to be fed.
I am worn out.
I am brazenly proud.
I am longing for silence.
I am honored to be surrounded by all this life.
I need to wrap this up so I can rest for a few hours... just enough time to be woken up with one or all of their needs. Just enough to be needed and needed and needed all day. Just as much as I need to function.
Maybe if everyone's feeling better in the morning we can get out together and do something fun and take a picture so we can remember this time. This time when we were tired because everyone was so small and needed us so much. This sweet time when these small ones taught us so much. Yes, maybe we'll do that.
