Today I am contemplating the need for more time in a day.
Instead of being able to devote the 8-10 hours I truly need to work on my book, or read the Eight Decades for my soon-to-be published essay, or clean and organize all rooms of the house in which I live, or finish and fold eight loads of laundry, or go to the store(s) to pick up much needed items, or visit Border’s and center my soul with coffee and paper, or any other of the bagillion (yes, it’s a word if I say it is) things that one has to do in a day to simply be you.
I realize that everyone deals with this ‘lack of time’ frustration but my daily life is lived 98% for others so I’m entitled to a little selfishness right!? My biggest problem is the frustration induced anger the time dilemma creates for me, which I then have a bad tendency to take out on cutie babies.
Now, let’s be clear, these little men are pushing the envelope of acceptable behavior most days but they are only 3 and 1 therefore leeway must be given.
Besides, it’s hard to be frustrated for long when these are the faces you’re looking at:)
And on and on. After children we are able to still do the things we love but everything in moderation. SO no I don’t get 8 hours to write, but when my mom watches the boys maybe I can get in 3. Matt and I don’t while away the weekends anymore but we do get out often enough to keep our sanity. As for the laundry, organizing, shopping etc…it never ends anyway.