Hi everyone! I'm Jennifer from Playgroups are no place for children. I get very nervous and writer's blocked when asked to guest post, so I'm republishing one of my less embarassing writing attempts. Sarah chose it herself.
I watch the clock. 5:30? Why hasn’t he called? I want him to call. I need a break.
When will this stage pass, sleepless nights, colic, “no”, throwing food on the floor, naps chaining me to the house…
Next summer Ella will be walking, it will be easier.
Next year Carson will be, I will be, Tate will be…
I’m always waiting.
It seems to be such a shame that I’m not enjoying the moments more. I know I should savor these times, not wish them away.
When it comes to the concept of time, I’m always at odds. I wish it away, yet I wish for it to last longer, too. Now that we’ve had children, Tate and I have such little time together. Yet in the evenings, I find that it’s hard to switch gears from “Mom” to “wife.” I don’t know how to go from covered in spit-up and washing dinner off little hands to adult conversationalist and lover.
There’s never enough time to just be me.
The ability to make time for everyone, Carson, Ella, Tate, friends, seems impossible. I don’t know how to balance everyone’s needs. I joked yesterday about needing help. But really, it’s not a joke. I’m tired. I’m having trouble keeping up.
I’m always overextended.
I miss the days of being childless and carefree. Planning my days however I felt, not planning around meals and naps and bedtimes. I miss going out to dinner, having nice clothes, being the other half of a great couple, and driving fast with the windows down and music blaring. I wished this time away, wanting children. Wanting to be truly grown up.
Well here I am grown up. So lucky to have a wonderful husband, healthy and beautiful children. I have everything I ever dreamed of having and more. But, why am I not finding the contentment I’d thought I’d have?
Is this IT for the rest of my life? Making meals, wiping butts, calming tantrums, getting up in the night, disciplining, always waiting for the next thing.
Or is THIS it? Watching my kids grow and flourish, encouraging them, making them feel loved, going to baseball games and dance recitals, crying on their first days of school, remembering to savor the here and now.
Either way, I don’t know where I fit. When do I get to be me?
Originally published at Playgroups are no place for children