Tension and Time
This morning I woke to the sounds of arguing and a little voice saying, "Oh no, Mommy! I a mess." The arguing was easy enough to deal with. The mess I found in my daughter's room was a little less so. A messy diaper broken and spilled onto her carpet. Blood staining her little cheeks, the remnants of recurring bloody noses. I sighed, got down on my knees, changed her, cleaned her carpet. I choked back tears. As my husband dressed in his professional clothes, preparing for another day at the office--a day with adults, and conversations, and trips alone to the bathroom--I faced another day at home.
I've started working a few hours, and I absolutely love it. It's reignited a love for working, real working. A love for interacting with people, and having an answer to that awful question, "What do you do?" that doesn't involve shrugged shoulders or explanations. I feel like a person. And I want more. A friend and former co-worker posted an article yesterday about Neonatal ICU nurses. It resonated. It flooded me with memories. And it made me ache to go back.
Yes, I will say it. Sometimes it feels like too much time. Sometimes it feels too insignificant. Sometimes I wish there was more me and less them. I don't love them any less. I wouldn't trade my role as a stay-at-home mom. When it's all said and done and they're ready to graduate from high school and I know I've been there for all of it--all of it--I know it will have been more important. But how I ache for more.
The tension is always there. I struggle always to reconcile my passion for my family with my love for my career. Today I'm caught in that place. As I built a domino train, kids hanging from my legs, laughing as my son cheered when the last domino fell on time, I had joy. As I piled onto the couch, surrounded by children and empty suitcases, pretending to drive to their grandparents' house, I knew this was a good moment. As they played in a sink full of water, fighting and laughing all at the same time, I knew I needed to be here. The tension will remain. The seasons for working more or less may come and go. The days will stretch on and sometimes feel endless. But there will be moments of peace, moments of satisfaction, through it all. There will be contentment even mingled with the desire for more, and I think that's ok. This is what it means to lay it down, to take it up, to press forward and follow faithfully. It's tension that keeps us growing. It's tension that keeps us pressing forward.
I've started working a few hours, and I absolutely love it. It's reignited a love for working, real working. A love for interacting with people, and having an answer to that awful question, "What do you do?" that doesn't involve shrugged shoulders or explanations. I feel like a person. And I want more. A friend and former co-worker posted an article yesterday about Neonatal ICU nurses. It resonated. It flooded me with memories. And it made me ache to go back.
Yes, I will say it. Sometimes it feels like too much time. Sometimes it feels too insignificant. Sometimes I wish there was more me and less them. I don't love them any less. I wouldn't trade my role as a stay-at-home mom. When it's all said and done and they're ready to graduate from high school and I know I've been there for all of it--all of it--I know it will have been more important. But how I ache for more.
The tension is always there. I struggle always to reconcile my passion for my family with my love for my career. Today I'm caught in that place. As I built a domino train, kids hanging from my legs, laughing as my son cheered when the last domino fell on time, I had joy. As I piled onto the couch, surrounded by children and empty suitcases, pretending to drive to their grandparents' house, I knew this was a good moment. As they played in a sink full of water, fighting and laughing all at the same time, I knew I needed to be here. The tension will remain. The seasons for working more or less may come and go. The days will stretch on and sometimes feel endless. But there will be moments of peace, moments of satisfaction, through it all. There will be contentment even mingled with the desire for more, and I think that's ok. This is what it means to lay it down, to take it up, to press forward and follow faithfully. It's tension that keeps us growing. It's tension that keeps us pressing forward.
