The state of things

There are probably half a dozen posts half-written in the drafts pile that I will never finish. I miss sitting down for a spell to think about things and write, but there's always something that needs fixing / paying attention to -- right now the dishwasher needs emptying, dinner needs preparing, and my daughter will want out of the circle of neglect in about two minutes, let alone the load of wash that needs to go in the dryer and the son that will need a ride home soon enough. If it's not one thing, it's another. But the fact is that many days I'm sleep deprived and it's hard enough to put sentences together, to come up with something I want to post, and it's probably better that I don't.

I'm not complaining. I'm not. I love my son and my daughter with all my being, and I have a sense of contentment with them (not all the time, mind you ... ) that I value beyond most things in my life. It's the feeling that gives life meaning, a knowledge that I'm not just going through the motions of life, that I'm doing something worthwhile, that there's purpose and meaning and above all personal happiness involved.

The fact is that small children mean that personal time -- not to mention personal space -- is merely a memory. And I don't think people really get what that really means until they have kids. I know I didn't. I pictured days spent with my children but evenings relaxing with my husband as normal. I didn't picture long drawn out evenings of soothing children to sleep, and then collapsing into bed as soon as that was done because the day of child rearing had been so exhausting. I have heard that the pure physicality of child rearing gets easier by five, and I can imagine it is true. I am praying it is, anyway. But in the meantime I have a son who never stops and a baby which means I don't get to stop, and a 36 year old body that should have done this at 25, even if my maturity wouldn't have been capable of it.

The delight on her face when she sees me walk into a room, his murmured "I love you mommy, you're a good mommy." before he goes to sleep. These are the things that keep me going.

And the knowledge that I'll get to sleep when I'm 40.