I am a bit weepy today in one of those moments where exhaustion and a long to-do list of things that require quiet concentration collide with a jerky comment said by someone (Kevin!) meaning to be funny. I'm tired from all that I do for my family and the list of things I want to do for myself (1. update the look on this blog), get pushed aside constantly because I rarely get a moment of quiet to myself. Even when I type blog posts or emails, there is someone sitting next to me, usually on top of my desk, pillaging through my papers, while another person is asking me how to spell a never-ending list of words. What brings on the tears for me is not the tiredness or frustration, but the realization that no one really gets it. And yes, tons of mothers do get it because they are living it too, but I mean the people closest to me, my family. They do not get it.
This week I got into my car and saw Clover's ballet shoes on the floor of the passenger side. Instead of thinking they belong in the glove compartment (which is where I store them so I do not forget to bring them to her class), I saw the beauty in my every day, in these small pale pink ballet shoes on the floor. Seeing the smallness and knowing that it doesn't last long, puts things into perspective quickly and I am happy I was able to see them that way as opposed to misplaced shoes and a messy car. I love that I get to be with these kids all the time, I know I am lucky to be able to do it, but that doesn't mean I don't cry over wanting a break from it sometimes.
I folded and put away laundry this morning while I was crying (even Cinderella had a better attitude...) and I saw a drawing Clover was working on, which made me feel better. The small beauty in the every day things, once again, helped.
*When my sisters and I were young, an aunt gave my mom frames with our birth information on them as a gift. Being born on Wednesday, mine said "Wednesday's Child is Full of Woe." Is that really an okay baby gift? My middle sister's said "Thursday's Child has Far to Go." Another disappointing prophecy for a newborn.