Like Martha, I’ve been troubled about many things. Every day holds more tasks than can reasonably be done; every member of my family has more needs than can be met. For five weeks (one miserable, the rest just lingering) I’ve been coughing, wheezing and missing the other half of my lungs (of course I’ve still been running, but my friends are weary of waiting for me as I gasp my way up the hills).
I’ve been working to get my muchness back. My curse and superpower is shooting for the stars; I fall often, bloody my knees and wonder what I could have been thinking. When I’m myself, I brush away the wreckage and move onto the next adventure. Maybe I’ve crashed too often and too hard in the last years to ever beme again. I’m not energetic; I need a lot of sleep and I feel like deserve a gold star every time I clean my kitchen.
Still, I know I’m enough. It’s all enough.
No matter how grand my ideas, this is the goal– happy kids spreading blankets on the grass, laughing out loud at silly stories, improvising with sock mittens when the temperature dips. And I only need to stay the course, making dinners and birthday parties, insisting on homework and practicing, playing board games and tea party, praying in the morning and reading at night so my children can reach their own goals– happy kids spreading blankets on the grass….
Because life doesn’t get any sweeter.