One of my favorite things about our new house is this spot right here:
About four feet from the foot of my bed, on a desk I've had since childhood, under a window that overlooks our back deck, sits my blogging nook. It is a keyboard. It is a place to rest my stained coffee mug. But most of all, it's mine.
And nearly every night as I crawl into bed, it rests there, patiently saying, "I'm here when you're ready." It could beg, or demand my attention, but somehow it just understands. There is an unspoken agreement between this little nook and me. It know it's loved and missed and appreciated. But it knows that my focus is elsewhere at the moment. And it knows that at some point, when I have a few moments to spare, we'll be reunited and it will be just as glorious as we remembered.
You see, the reason our relationship is a long-distance one, is because of this little thing called motherhood. For those who may not know, motherhood can be tiring. As evidenced here:
So, my blog remains neglected. Every night, I lay in bed, looking longingly at my nook, thinking tonight will be the night. When I finally put pen to paper, or fingers to keys, and I write about the ten million things swirling around my brain. And yet every night, that little demon called exhaustion wins out.
Tonight, however, I decided I was going to kick that demon to the curb, push past the mushiness that is my tired Mommy brain, and just write about what's been on my mind. And what's been on my mind a lot lately is motherhood. Not just the practical, logistical parts of keeping a small human alive, but the how do I move on with my life now that I am completely changed as a person?
There's been a tsunami of pregnant ladies at work in the last few months. I like to think I started the trend. Hardy har har. Of the three that have given birth since June, two have quit to remain closer to their babies. On the one hand, I can't even think about it because it makes my heart hurt. All I want is to be closer to my baby, and for now, God is telling me, it's not the time. So yeah, I'm jealous. But on the other hand, it makes me feel almost kind of...validated. Like perhaps I'm not the only one struggling so badly with this. Like maybe, this really and truly is just as hard on other new Mommies as it is on me. And if that's the case, then the fact that I'm working 40 hours a week and still doing a pretty damn good job in my role, means maybe this is what balancing it all looks like. On the inside, it's messy and painful and stressful and overwhelming. But...maybe, just maybe I'm keeping it together enough on the outside. And maybe, if other people are keeping it together on the outside, there's a possibility that they're just as messy and confused and heartbroken on the inside as I am. So in a long, rambling, nonsensical kind of way, my co-workers quitting makes me feel a little less alone in all this.
There is so much more I could say on this, and I know that my little nook will await me when I can. But for now, that pesky demon called exhaustion is beckoning. So I will curl up in bed under my fuzzy penguin blanket, with Mindy Kaling's new book and a hot cup of Mother's Milk tea, and I will thank God for the gift of motherhood: the joy, the surprise, and the hard, hard work.