Like everyone else, I have some days when I feel more competent at accomplishing all of the things I am responsible for and some days that I feel less competent. Usually, I feel pretty competent. Lately, I've had quite a few less-competent feeling days in a row. I was grousing (is that really a word? well, let's say for today that it is) to myself that I wish I could sit on the couch all day (who am I kidding? I meant all week), watch daytime TV and eat a whole bag of Devils Food Donettes.
But instead I have these three children who require food. And bathing. And car pools. And clean laundry. And picking up after. And permission slips signed. And on and on. But tonight, as I was brushing my teeth, scowling at myself in the mirror, and wondering where all those wrinkles came from, I had the thought that perhaps I am not burdened by the requirement to pull myself up off the couch and take care of my children. Instead, I am blessed by presence of a reason not to wallow in my self-doubt.
It doesn't really matter if I feel like it; these children need raised. And it's not going to wait until next week when I may or may not feel like opening another bag of donuts and plopping down in front of Rachel Ray and Dr. Oz.
There's only going to be one chance to give my goofy, grinning eight-year-old boy the Harry Potter birthday party of his dreams so I better get to crafting, shopping and cooking sooner rather than later. There's only going to be a few more months to have my darling four-year-old tell me about her preschool day in her baby-like lisp before she has grown out of it for good, so I better sit up and listen right now. There is only a small window when a sweet six-year-old boy will want to sit on my lap and read me a story with his newly discovered skills before reading starts to happen all in his head and before he outgrows my lap all together, so I best pay attention to it right now while I can.
Parenting is hard work and exhausting, but is there anything better? Is there anything more worth it? No, of course not. And even more, it is a reason to get moving and do what I know needs to be done. To be more than I want to be on some days. To be a better person than I think I am.
But instead I have these three children who require food. And bathing. And car pools. And clean laundry. And picking up after. And permission slips signed. And on and on. But tonight, as I was brushing my teeth, scowling at myself in the mirror, and wondering where all those wrinkles came from, I had the thought that perhaps I am not burdened by the requirement to pull myself up off the couch and take care of my children. Instead, I am blessed by presence of a reason not to wallow in my self-doubt.
It doesn't really matter if I feel like it; these children need raised. And it's not going to wait until next week when I may or may not feel like opening another bag of donuts and plopping down in front of Rachel Ray and Dr. Oz.
There's only going to be one chance to give my goofy, grinning eight-year-old boy the Harry Potter birthday party of his dreams so I better get to crafting, shopping and cooking sooner rather than later. There's only going to be a few more months to have my darling four-year-old tell me about her preschool day in her baby-like lisp before she has grown out of it for good, so I better sit up and listen right now. There is only a small window when a sweet six-year-old boy will want to sit on my lap and read me a story with his newly discovered skills before reading starts to happen all in his head and before he outgrows my lap all together, so I best pay attention to it right now while I can.
Parenting is hard work and exhausting, but is there anything better? Is there anything more worth it? No, of course not. And even more, it is a reason to get moving and do what I know needs to be done. To be more than I want to be on some days. To be a better person than I think I am.
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