I don't usually get on the computer much during the day. I end up getting sucked in and not getting anything accomplished. Today however, I am too tired to do anything but crash on the couch for a while.
Both of my babies are sick today. I've never had them be sick at the same time. They both have fevers, headaches, stuffy noses and coughs. Of course, I'm sick too, but not too bad. Doesn't matter anyway. There aren't sick days for mommys. Shane and I didn't get any sleep last night. Lydia could only sleep if her scorching body was pressed against me. I am chugging a diet coke like a true addict. I stopped that part of my detox a few days ago when I was trying to survive on 2 hours sleep. Quitting the habit didn't help with my insomnia anyway.
They are both napping. At least for now. I put Collin down in light jammies and a sheet since he was burning up. 20 minutes later I heard him crying and found him surrounded in a chaos of blankets he had pulled from the side of the crib in an attempt to cover himself. It was so adorably pathetic. I held him for a while. He cried on my shoulder, saying "Ow, Mama. Ow."
"I know sweetheart. I know it hurts. Mommy's here."
Maybe it's the sleep withdrawal, but I just started crying. I rocked my baby, sang a lullaby and cried. Fat tears running down my cheek onto the sweatshirt I've worn every day this week. Women are complicated. The more self aware I become, the more I pity my husband for having to try to understand me. And the more grateful I am to him that he tries. I felt such a medley of anxiety and joy. This job is hard. So very very hard. It's a marathon unlike anything I could have imagined. It never stops. The work day doesn't end. In the 5 years I've been a mother, I've had 6 days away from my kids. Just over one day a year. I miss my independence. I don't know when I will feel like I'm doing anything more than keeping my head above water.
Holding my hurting Collin breaks my heart. At the same time I feel I can't keep going, I feel such gratitude for my little ones. Gratitude they are mine. I will forever be grateful for the two years we dealt with infertility. I needed to know the fear that they may not come. I watch them play with each other, and even through my exhausted haze, I feel joy unlike any I've know. I love that some part of me just knows how to do this. When I hold my children and comfort them, it's like I was made to do it. I may not know how to be a perfect homemaker, but I know how to nurture them.
For now the house is quiet. There are scraps of playdoh all over the kitchen. I somehow got dinner in the crockpot, so at least we'll have a real meal tonight. 5 loads of laundry need to be folded. I still need to clean up the last bits of smoothie that Lydia knocked on the floor at breakfast. Toys, books are scattered everywhere. The kid's bathroom looks like someone had a toothpaste war. It never ends. Never. But for right now, I'm just going to sit here and be grateful for the quiet. Grateful my children are still little and want to make playdoh messes with me. Grateful they are only sick for a few days. Grateful our prayers were answered and I became a mommy. Grateful I'm married to my best friend. Grateful for the marathon that reminds me I am doing all of this so we can be together forever.