In fact, I find that most Mondays I return to work more exhausted than when I left on Friday. Sure, part of it is that we are trying to cram too much fun into each weekend, but another part of it is simply that “relaxing” activities of my carefree, childless days now require significantly more energy and work in order to be successful (or survive).
Mom fails. Do we all have them? As I frantically try to juggle my family and work lives, I make mistakes, forget things on my never-ending to do list, and lose my patience. Is it just me?
Two years ago my littlest daughter decided she wanted to become a dancer. I had successfully avoided dance mom status with the other two girls as they had both leaned (or were pushed) toward sports like soccer and basketball. My youngest, however, was determined to resist my shoves no matter how pink her cleats and shin guards were.
And so, with each moment that I long to live again or live for a little longer, I also yearn to experience what will be … all that has yet to come. And, while I may hold on to every last for as long as I possibly can, I am also embracing every new first.
I was pregnant with my oldest son on Mother’s Day eighteen years ago. I hadn’t even felt his first kicks, but I knew I loved him. I couldn’t have known then how deeply that love would grow…
And, I knew what she needed. She did not need my judgment. She did not need me to walk past. She needed grace. She needed kindness. She needed understanding from one mother to another. She needed a village.
We hear, “you’re going to miss this when it’s over” or “you’ll look back on this and smile” and other annoying cliches from older parents all of the time. But as I’m beginning to identify with those “older” (gasp) parents I have to say, they were right.
Turning forty was tough for me. My previous year felt like a roller coaster ride. I felt compelled to reflect on what time had taught me. Here are the 40 lessons I learned at 40…
Maybe I am a traditionalist at heart, but I still believe every woman has to do what is in her heart … what is right with her soul. And that is pretty damn progressive.
But, then I found myself fallen from a treadmill at 9:45 at night with bruised and battered legs. “Jerry, HELP!”