BUSY BUSY BUSY!!

Ok, so I know I haven't posted in quite awhile, but I've been super busy. As a matter of fact, my update today is going to consist of the reasons I haven't had time to update.

1. I have three two children and a husband. Nuf said.
   
2. I'm reading two books and yes, I'm reading them at the same time. I'm reading Scream-Free Parenting which is actually a really good book so far. And I'm reading Storitelling. It's a guilty pleasure so get over it. AND I'm reading my dad's second book and editing it. However, I haven't picked up any of these books in several weeks.
   
3. See number 1 above.
   
4. I'm working on a baby blanket for my sisters baby. Well, I intend to make a baby blanket. I haven't actually started it yet.
   
5. Have you met my family?
   
6. I'm working on a how-to/procedures manual type thing for work to make my life easier. This is a much bigger task than it sounds.
   
7. Thank goodness for BC. You figure it out.
   
8. I am planning my sisters baby shower for this Saturday. Yes I know. It's crazy to have it during a holiday week, but that's the day that worked.
   

In addition to these ongoing projects, I have stuff I have to do everyday. I get up at 5:30 a.m. every morning. I get Ereka up at 6 am and feed her breakfast. I pick out clothes for both kids and lay them out for Eric. If Ereka happens to be done with breakfast by 6:20, I help her get dressed. If she's dilly-dallying around, it's Eric's problem. I try to be out the door by 6:30. I am at work from 7 am to 5 pm. I'm home by about 5:45 pm and before I can even put my keys down, I get "What's for dinner?" If I'm lucky, I have dinner on the table by 6:45. Then I get to clean up after EVERYONE. Then I start getting the kids ready for bed. Ethan is usually in bed by 7:30. Yes this seems early, but remember, we rise early. Ereka is in bed by 8. By this time I'm too dang exhausted and have absolutely no interest in doing anything listed above. And I'm pretty sure somewhere in there I'm supposed to clean the house, do laundry and spend quality time with my family.

All of this being said, I finally started on a baby hat for Kandyce's baby and will hopefully finish it tonight. I am prioritizing and I figure I will get everything done I want to get done some time in the next 10 years.

I'm thinking I need to reorganize.

Motherhood...It will change your life

I get tons of emails everyday. I save very few of them. I received the following in an email some time ago and thought it was well worth saving and worth posting here.

Time is running out for my friend.

We are sitting at lunch when she casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family." What she means is that her biological clock has begun its countdown and she is considering the prospect of motherhood.

"We're taking a survey," she says, half jokingly.

"Do you think I should have a baby?"

"It will change your life," I say carefully.

"I know," she says. "No more sleeping in on Saturdays, no more spontaneous vacations..."

But that is not what I mean at all.

I look at my friend, trying to decide what to tell her.

I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of childbirth heal, but that becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will be forever vulnerable.

I consider warning her that she will never read a newspaper again without asking "What if that had been my child?" That every plane crash, every fire will haunt her.

That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will look at the mothers and wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.

I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think she should know that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will immediately reduce her to the primitive level. That a slightly urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop her best crystal without a moment's
hesitation.

I feel I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might successfully arrange for child care, but one day she will be waiting to go into an important business meeting, and she will think about her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure he is all right.

I want my friend to know that everyday routine decisions will no longer be routine. That a visit to Mc Donald's and a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's room will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming
children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that danger may be lurking in the rest room.

I want her to know that however decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother.

Looking at my attractive friend, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child.

That she would give it up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not so much to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish his.

I want her to know that a cesarean scar or stretch marks will become badges of honor.

My friend's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the ways she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is always careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his son. I think she should know that she will fall in love with her husband again for reasons she would never have imagined.

I wish my modern friend could sense the bond she will feel with other women throughout history who have tried desperately to stop war and drunk driving.

I want to describe to my friend the exhilaration of seeing your son learn to hit a baseball. I want to capture for her the laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real that it hurts.

My friend's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes.

"You'll never regret it," I say finally.

by Dale Hanson Bourke
Chicken Soup for the Woman's Soul