Things that are Lost
I love my children. Before they were born, I loved them. I am a better person for having them.
And the big movie-plot sacrifices? Those are easy. I’ve functioned for years not sleeping more than any two hours consecutively. I happily nursed them for years. I have no doubt that I could kill for them, and that I would willingly die for them. Without a second thought.
But some days. Some days when you’ve fished one too many toy out of the toilet, when you’ve grabbed the baby off of the windowsill for the tenth time, when the preschooler left candy in his carseat again, when you’re the mother all the old ladies in the grocery store tsk, when you’ve said repeatedly “if I told you once, I told you a thousand times, don’t lick your brother” – those days it can be so hard to remind yourself all the rest of the sacrifices are worth it.
The story plots and lines of poetry that you swear you’ll get to once the kids are in bed. The places you were going to visit before you turned thirty. The relationship that could change the core of who you are. Those losses have to be worth it.
So when they finally fall asleep, their trusting faces peaceful on their pillows, and I creep into their rooms to watch them breathe, may something bigger than myself help me believe it’s worth it.
And the big movie-plot sacrifices? Those are easy. I’ve functioned for years not sleeping more than any two hours consecutively. I happily nursed them for years. I have no doubt that I could kill for them, and that I would willingly die for them. Without a second thought.
But some days. Some days when you’ve fished one too many toy out of the toilet, when you’ve grabbed the baby off of the windowsill for the tenth time, when the preschooler left candy in his carseat again, when you’re the mother all the old ladies in the grocery store tsk, when you’ve said repeatedly “if I told you once, I told you a thousand times, don’t lick your brother” – those days it can be so hard to remind yourself all the rest of the sacrifices are worth it.
The story plots and lines of poetry that you swear you’ll get to once the kids are in bed. The places you were going to visit before you turned thirty. The relationship that could change the core of who you are. Those losses have to be worth it.
So when they finally fall asleep, their trusting faces peaceful on their pillows, and I creep into their rooms to watch them breathe, may something bigger than myself help me believe it’s worth it.
posted by Momma Star at 8:48 PM
6 Comments:
Oh GEEZ...what can I say other than Ohhhh Yessssssss. It's like you stole my diary and read it. :)
Yes. Yes. Yes.
It is the great irony of my life that I would die for my children, but find it difficult to sacrifice my writing time.
Or is that a paradox?
See...I'm lost.
I really understand ((you))
To echo Jozet, yes. Just yes.
Oh, hell yes.
xoxo
I understand completely. And why is it that you get your best ideas when you're either too busy or too tired to write them down?
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