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Friday, November 18, 2011

It's All Enough.

There are so many things I want to do and see and be and write. The hours in the day move so quickly that my head hits the pillow and a minute later I wake up and we do it all again. Cereal and milk, the brushing of the teeth, the picking up, the making a mess, the picking up again.

Monday I sat criss-cross applesauce in the basement trying to soak it up with a weeks worth of clean laundry dumped in front of me to fold. She's so into babies and feeding them and changing them and loving them and I love it. And he, he's into legos and building and shooting and climbing and being a boy.

Some nights I fall into bed guilt ridden. Did I do enough? Did I say enough? Was I here enough? Still other nights I fall into bed with my alarm set hours before they will awake because I just have to do this or write this or be this and if I don't, I will be the mom I don't want to be in the morning, rushing and pushing and stressing.

I worry but I put on a front. She's shy at school? Not her? Never? Someone pushed him on the bus? And he said what?!

We rush to T's basketball game the other day. The phone is ringing, I'm saying, "get in the van, get in the van, get in the van." I'm dressed to go out with the wrong shoes on, M's begging to stay home and H & E are tired. The game will be busy and full with no where but the floor to sit. The buzzer is loud and it started earlier than it was supposed to.

I listen to voicemail yesterday for the first time in days. "You have seven new messages." the voice recites. I want to hit delete all.

I write all this because sometimes people say things and ask me how I do it. "How do you stay on top of your house and your kids and your blog and your freelancing?"

I wish I could show you some systematic calendar or schedule of how it works or doesn't work some days. Most of the time it all comes together, it does, but it's anything but perfect.

Those voicemails I listened to yesterday, one of them was from J's pocket. He was having lunch with a colleague and I could hear rustling and voices and all of a sudden I could hear him talking. Talking about me and how great I am and how good of a mom I am and how I do such a nice job with so many different things. He went on and on and on with no idea I was in his pocket eavesdropping.

And I think in that moment. It's all enough and we're doing just fine, just keep going. One. Thing. At. A. Time.

****

Some links to peruse on your Friday {or your weekend}:

  • When Strangers aren't the Danger: I wrote about protecting our kids from people like Sandusky at Penn State.
  • It's National Adoption Month and I'm covering all sorts of local families and their adoption stories. It is so fascinating to hear their stories and have the privilege of sharing them. Here's one story of a domestic adoption.
  • Back in September, I was contacted by producer Elizabeth Minnell about reading one of my blog posts on her new webshow, Moms Like Us. The first episode went live on Wednesday. I'm reading in this segment here. It's a couple minutes into the clip.
  • With less than a week before Thanksgiving, I'm sure most are finalizing their plans for the day. Our family is participating in the Walk to End Hunger at the Mall of America that morning. On a day where many of us have a surplus of food in front of us, we decided this year that we wanted to support a cause for those who are hungry before our family meal. For more information and to register, go here. Would love to see you there!

Finally, please welcome my new and returning advertisers this month: 2D by Jen, B & J Trees and Mark Finney Dental.

Have a happy weekend!

1 Comments:

Blogger Erin said...

The pocket dial conversation gives me chills. How wonderful it must feel to know your husband holds you in such high regard even when he thinks you can't hear him. I feel like those words are even more meaningful than the ones he shares in your presence. You are a lucky girl, Samara!

November 20, 2011 at 11:34 AM  

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