I have a lot of ideas for redecorating Emma's room but she has different ideas. I am trying to strike a balance. On the one hand, it's her room. I want her to have the thrill of coming up with an idea, executing it and watching it fail or succeed. On the other hand, she's not paying for the paint, curtains, etc. And I'll be doing most of the work. I have a vested interest in it all.
I have a single spaced nine page long typed list of books I want to read (really, I am not kidding) and I'm reading a boring book right now.
I want to spend more time writing but every day it gets pushed to the bottom of my list then falls off the list, right onto the floor. Where it's kicked around.
Just when I feel like I have conquered one teeny little corner of motherhood, my children dazzle me by doing something so stupid I realize I have to reassess and give this new problem immediate, prompt attention. (Why can't those people let me rest on my laurels, however puny those laurels may be?)
Just when I feel like maybe I have rotten children after all, they do something terrific and charming and make me believe that maybe all isn't lost.
Marianne and I have children that sleep through the night, can get dressed themselves, put their own shoes on, buckle their own seatbelts and even get their own snacks. But we never have time to talk on the phone. If you had asked us ten years ago if we'd have more time now, we would have said an emphatic yes. What happened?
Sometimes I don't feel like I know very much about my life.
But here's something I do know: I have terrific friends.
Janet picked up Braeden from play practice (and Hans didn't even have to be at that practice).
Stephanie hosted Mark when I needed her to.
Jill agreed with me about Emma's room.
Heather inquired about my writing which made me feel good.
In a world where a lot doesn't make sense, my friends do.