I can honestly say that the selfish mommy moments I remember when T.Mark was an infant--the "maybe I'll get to drink a cup of coffee today without simultaneously holding a tiny crying person", or "maybe I'll get to pee alone today" moments, are relatively nonexistent this time around. I have the perspective to know that in basically two seconds my tiny baby will be a big boy who knows all his colors and is wearing pull-ups. And then he'll be 16. And then he'll go to college. And then he will get married to some VERY lucky girl and will hopefully give me a million grandchildren.
However. The tiredness is real, y'all. And I feel so inadequate. Because my tiredness makes me think of others who must be more so than I. So I think--ok, I need to take a meal to that friend who is going through the tough time. Or--I need to take that sweet new baby a gift. Or--I need to load up my babies and go visit that elderly person. I am tired of being the person on the receiving end of the thoughtfulness and care, if that kind of crazy makes any sense to you. I want to be the person giving the care and being thoughtful. But most of the time right now, it doesn't happen. I do try to send encouraging texts each day to friends or family who may need them, but beyond that I basically collapse into bed each night triple exhausted and hoping against hope I will get a three hour stretch of sleep that night.
I feel like at this point I should put the disclaimer: #firstworldproblems. That's constantly the thought in my head when I consider that I have the health and the lives of my precious children and my family intact, that I have a home and a community and friends and a good job, not to mention a Savior who loves and forgives me my many inadequacies.
But--whatever "hard" you are in can still seem pretty hard when you're in it, if that makes any sense.
Update to this post***I wrote the above last night as I was drifting off to sleep around 10:45 (probably not a good idea to blog then, but that is when my thoughts seem to run most freely and I have to put a pen to them then before they clam back up). And sweet Amos slept until 2:40! He had gone to sleep after a fussy evening at around 9:30...so that is FIVE hours! I couldn't believe it. So I am thankful for that this morning.
This post leads to another one that I will write soon about creating some margin in life. Writing it out helps me to work through it. I have begun to learn, finally, in the months since Amos was born, that if I am going to be effective in the various roles I have been given in my life, I've got to (at least in this season) give myself a little bit of space to breathe, and stop jam-packing every second with a bullheaded full speed ahead. I have never been very good at that. So I'm working on it. I'll let you know how it goes.