it's nearly nine am.
and I find myself back in bed...
after getting up at 5:30...
feeding. burping. changing the wee man.
making myself tea. and toast.
trying to read a bit of the psalms with a wee man in my lap.
he would like nothing more than to rip and crinkle the thin pages of my bible.
hearing little girl footsteps on the stairs. too early.
scrambling eggs. making more toast.
wiping up said milk.
assembling the contents of a first grader's lunch box: soup and pita chips. cucumber spears and grape tomatoes. an apricot and a clementine. almonds and chocolate chips.
wishing I had his lunch.
asking the same questions I pose every morning: "is your backpack packed? got your library books? where are your shoes?"
and then: "make good choices. I love you."
shooing him out the door. "hurry. hurry. papa's waiting."
returning to the kitchen.
dishes. the never-ending cycle.
combing little girl hairs.
searching for the other sock.
finding a paci. rinsing a paci. putting a wee man back to bed.
wiping a bum. again.
and here I find myself.
at nine am.
but today's tiredness is different.
tinged with melancholy.
I'm tired of my life.
of this constant not-knowing-ness.
this perpetual "I don't know".
everyone keeps saying how brave I am for doing this.
I don't feel brave.
quite the opposite usually.
worried about the future.
so very guilty.
guilty for not doing enough.
not being there enough for my kids.
neglecting their needs as I wallow in my own pool of self pity.
"you're doing an amazing job!" a friend recently told me.
I don't feel like what I'm doing is even close to amazing.
I feel mediocre.
barely scraping by.
I find myself snappish. peevish. annoyed at the little things.
and most days, I just want to curl up into my bed and just sleep.
sleep until my husband comes back home and life can resume.
I am lost without him.
a constant state of not yet.
of I don't know.
of we'll see when we get there.
it's wearing me down.
I am tired.
so very, very tired.
I should also mention that I am incredibly blessed and thankful to be where I am, to be taken care of the way I am.
truly blessed and thankful.