This morning I read this article in the Huffington Post that a friend put on Facebook. I really am in a sweet spot. With kids ages 4, 9 and 13 — I can actually say “k, head out to the car” and by the time I’ve forgotten 4 things that I need I head out to the car and they’re all there — even buckled. Glory be. My kids are somewhat self sufficient.
There are times that I think Motherhood is 100% the best job in the universe. There is absolutely nothing better then seeing people progress into productive human beings who you adore. There simply isn’t. There is a sisterhood with other mothers, there is relationships with their children and being surrounded in the joy of growing up. It seriously doesn’t get better.
But I swear, as soon as I’m taking the moment to look around the beautiful vista of motherhood — suddenly someone is falling off a cliff, or needs to use the bathroom and their zipper won’t work.
And I am dragged back into the trenches. There is always someone in need of me. There are things to learn, things to improve, friends to help, thoughts to be shared. It is a constant battle trying to remember it is the best job. Women weren’t born to multitask, we are demanded to multitask for hours each day, each moment knowing that if we could just do one thing at a time it would get done better then if we had to do 12 at that moment (unless it is cleaning and talking on the phone, I think those two are synergistic — only problem is that children always come to need something while you are on the phone).
So, the question du jour is how do you take that time to enjoy the vistas. How do imprint it on your mind so that when your kids are screaming that THIS IS THEIR LEGO (needless to say you’ve seen it on the floor being walked on 12 times this week) you don’t consider using that tiny lightsabre to poke their eyes out (or your own eardrums). I think the key to surviving the motherhood war is remembering those moments when things are just as they should be. The quiet giggles, the cuddling on the couch, the hugs. How do you do that? How do YOU savor the motherhood vistas?
Tell me, tell me now.