this post is all over the place. i would apologize, but really i'm just proud of myself for posting, so i won't.
The past two weeks, I have felt like a glorified cattle prodder and taxicab. We have rushed from one thing to another to another, and I can't remember the last time we were at home that my kids were awake that we weren't eating (this might be slightly exaggerated, because my memory is horrible- but suffice it to say, we've been busy). The sad thing is, I don't even know exactly what we've been doing. But somehow swim lessons 3x a week and the normal grocery shopping and Target trips have been combined with errands and attempts to socialize to become 3 very burnt out and grumpy girls in this house.
It's taking more and more work to get the girls out of the house. "But mama, I'm playing." And then when we come home and I need to cook dinner and need them to play "mama, I want you to hug me." Hugs are good, but at the end of a day where I barely sat down, I need my body to belong to me so that I can cook something.
So today? We're not going anywhere. We're not getting out of pajamas. We're cleaning the playroom so that we can walk in there again and we're going to play. And chill. And probably watch too much TV. I struggle with days like this. I try to pick one day a week that we don't go anywhere and while that sounds relaxing and wonderful, it actually stresses me out. Jade and Piper don't play very well together if they're not supervised. My days spent at home are spent breaking up fights, kissing boo boos from being pushed and bit, trying to find activities to keep them both busy and wanting to curl up into a ball and hide from my children. But I'm actually excited for today. We all need this. The girls are tired. I'm tired. And sometimes you just need to wear PJs.
Being excited for a day at home has me praying and searching and asking God if I'm doing too much. I feel like I shouldn't be this burnt out. There are constantly 5,000 things running through my mind. If I sit on the couch during nap time, I think about all the things I should be doing and feel incredibly guilty, making my supposed relaxing time anything but.
The floors need to be mopped.
The bathroom has dirty clothes all over the floor.
There's a load of clothes in the dryer that need to be folded.
The couch is covered in dog hair.
I need to move the highchair to the attic.
I really should walk the dogs more.
I need to clean the window on the back door.
Do we have enough money to buy flowers? We need flowers. Ours died.
Clutter is piling in the kitchen again.
Why haven't I hung curtains? This looks like a frat house.
I need to get rid of some toys. Too many toys.
I need to take Jade to the dentist.
Where is Piper's birthday party going to be?
Ok I'm done. But I could go on all day. My brain never stops. At some point, I make a point to turn it off, but generally I just go to bed then. So am I striving for too much? Do I need to lower my housecleaning standards, again? Do I need to give up on ever owning a home that's nicely decorated since my talents seem to lie elsewhere (don't ask me where my talents are, I just know they don't involve decorating). Or do I just need to rely on Him more fully. Let things slide sometimes and reign them in at other times.
So I stop. And breathe. And tell myself this is only a season. And play another round of Candy Land on my floor covered in dog hair and remind myself Candy Land is more important. One day at a time. I pray for guidance with the little things. The day to day. God cares about everything, but He doesn't want me to do everything. So I set boundaries. I protect our "stay at home day" fiercely. I remind myself that I am only one person.