Ten minutes ago, Zoe went down for a nap. I tiptoed out of her room and immediately straightened my hair, threw some professional clothes on, and rushed to sit down.
I have a few minutes to write before I have to leave for my office. And I’m seizing my moment.
I walk around every day wanting to write. It’s how I process. But motherhood is time consuming and exhausting, and leaves little time or energy for much else besides falling onto the couch in a stupor when she’s “down” for “the night” (questionable terms around these parts anyway.)
“Get up early and write!” would be my advice to my old self. Um, yeah…by 8 am yesterday, I had already been up for 3 hours, fed a tiny human two meals, played in between, made scones from scratch, been urinated on, cleaned urine off of wood floors that I had just cleaned the day before, showered, given a baby a bath, dressed her, and performed her elaborate “Eczema Exorcism” routine (face wash and three lotions–and still a new red spot today. AHH!)
This season is not about me.
But somehow, I’m the most joyful I’ve ever been.
Fun fact about me: I like things to be neat. A few years ago I decided that I needed a manageable, healthy place to channel my perfectionism and I’ve chosen to pour it into having clean surroundings. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m rigid about it, to the point that I can barely function with clutter (when I left working full time, several rooms in my old office building suddenly started looking like something from Hoarders because everyone was so used to me cleaning them up that they never bothered developing their own organization system.)
This was my living room a few weeks ago. Mid cleaning.
And you know what I thought as I looked at it? This is beautiful. This room has never looked better.
The room looked like this because nine fun babies, mine included, had been exploring, gabbing, crawling, teething, moving all around it. What a joy it is to watch them embrace life with open arms and one-and-two-toothed smiles.
What a joy it is to hear my daughter’s voice call out at 3 am and see her smile when I enter the room because she knew I’d come and tend to her needs.
What a joy it is to be so exhausted that I fall onto the couch at night, because it means I’m truly pouring my all into my days and THAT means I’m truly living.
What a joy it is to have a mess in my home because that means we have relationships.
What a joy it is to lay Zoe in her bed for her nap, calmly tell her goodnight, close the door, make a caffeinated beverage and work my tail off until she wakes up. Yes, some days I wish I had fewer responsibilities to balance, but we will be able to retire someday because I worked during naptime and that is when I will relax 🙂 I thank God every day for a job that accommodates my desire to be home with my baby.
What a joy it is to be writing this blog post…still…three weeks after I started it…faithfully typing away in ten minute segments in between motherhood and housework and work because that means I am learning to handle and even embrace this season in my life, where it’s not about me but I can still be me.