Picture taken, appropraitely, with Caroline aboard my lap.
There are days where, despite our best intentions, what we want-- maybe even need-- to get done, does not. My excuse, today, is a clingy, congested, coughing baby who, despite needing to do so, will not nap and refuses to exist anywhere but my arms.
As you might imagine, this hinders me from getting much of anything productive done.
I provide my family with a tidy home (usually), nutritious food (generally speaking) and clean clothes, among other things; but this, the ability to drop everything and cuddle wipe boogers and nurture, this is one of the most important things I can do for my children. What good are clean, matching socks if they've been sorted while tears streaked the angelic face of my youngest? How can I possibly ignore a chubby pair of outstretched arms in the name of cooking dinner?
These days frustrate me much more than they delight me: I relish the opportunity to cuddle and nurture my kids, but I selfishly despise being thrown off of my schedule. I feel angst-ridden as I look, impossibly, at my long list of yet unchecked items written out neatly and so hopefully in my familiar blue Moleskin notebook.
What wonderful teachers our children are. I tell my kids to be flexible; in their illness they teach me to be flexible. I hope my kids grow up knowing that, no matter what else life throws at them, their role as a parent to young children will be primary; in their illness my children remind me that their care is primary. I try and instill in my kids a sense of compassion, and the need to care for others who need our help; in their illness my children present someone, very close at hand, who needs my help.
Lesson learned, message received. Now, can Caroline be better tomorrow? Please?