When the bedtime prayers have been said, singing done, the question of the day asked, and Kale is tucked in for the night, I find myself exhausted. I know this exhaustion will only grow when babe number 2 arrives, and as a friend blogged recently, as the mother of 3, "I want to punch the one child mama and now the two child mama in the face." Meaning, those mamas of her past thought she had it rough. They had no idea.
I feel worn. As the song goes, "I'm tired, I'm worn. My heart is heavy. From all it takes; to just keep breathing..." Worn from battles over washing hands. Worn from cleaning up spilled milk. Worn from sitting at the table with a little boy who makes meal time frustrating and long. Worn from teaching, rebuking, correcting, listening, mending hurts, and starting all over again.
The life of a stay at home mom is not all peaches and cream. There are many days in a row and sometimes weeks, before I have a legitimate amount of time to myself. When that time comes, I relish it. It gives me a sense of myself back. I feel renewed and ready to go back to the trenches.
I know I have been called for such a time as this. I acknowledge that I am in a season and to everything, it too, will turn.
We do a lot of reading at our house. And I mean, A LOT. I am amazed at the way children's books touch my heart and speak to me. One we currently have home from the library is called "Work Song" by Gary Paulsen. It reads:
"It is keening noise and jolting sights, and hammers flashing in the light,
and houses up and trees in sun, and trucks on one more nighttime run.
It is fresh new food to fill the plates, and flat, clean sidewalks to try to skate,
and towering buildings that were not there, hanging suddenly in the air.
It is offices filled with glowing screens and workers making steel beams,
and ice cream cones to lick and wear, and all the pins that hold your hair.
It's gentle arms that lift and hold, and all the soldiers brave and bold,
and help to fit the brand-new shoes, and hands to show you books to use.
It is people here and people there, making things for all to share;
all the things there are to be, and nearly all there is to see.
And when the day is paid and done, and all the errands have been run,
it's mother, father in a chair, with tired eyes and loosened hair.
Resting short but loving long, resting for the next day's song."
What a beautiful way to view a new day-as a song.
