I wish I was sick

because then I'd have an excuse.

How do I describe today? Or how am I supposed to feel about it? I'm not sure.

Yesterday, however, was a monster of productivity. Going to bed with aching feet because of all the running I'd been doing is a clear marker of accomplishment. It's like people that exercise to feel sore. Unless I kill myself or my To Do list, there's always a part of me that doesn't really feel like I've made use of my day. It has been practically my nature to base my worth on my productivity, I realized it was a problem just before I became a mother, and motherhood will be the forge to burn all of that out of me. Hopefully.

By the way, I know longer make To Do lists. I have a sheet of paper that I fill out the beginning of the week that has three categories: Priorities, Projects, and Task (yes, the task section is kinda like a to do list, but it had to have a different name). I've only done it three weeks now, and it's actually been pretty helpful. With days like today, for instance, I can look at my priorities list and feel good about some of the choices I made today. I felt impressed on Sunday that in my parenting I focus on being tender and loving with my girls. The girls have had a rougher week than normal, mostly sleep deprivation and sickness. And then Rhys is teething four molars at once and at that terrible two stage of trying to communicate and frustrated with not being able to be understood. So it was a good priority to make, because they haven't been their normal lovable selves.... I had to slow way down to meet all their demands today, it was exhausting but satisfying that I kept most of the frazzle at bay and all the love right at top.

But still, I only have two items on my Task list crossed off and only a few projects checked (meaning "worked on it/made progress") And, it's silly, but it's weighing me down. Part of me is really, truly, OK with the amount of housework I didn't do today. For whatever reason, I was spent today. But, tomorrow will come too early and I'm starting behind. I was already behind. If you get behind enough to eventually get in front of your work? Like a dog chasing it's tail?

All that said, I don't feel very worthy to ask for grace tomorrow to do what needs to be done. I know it doesn't work like that, but still. I will ask for grace, and I promise to write how it was given here tomorrow. But for tonight, I'm going to give a wonder moment:

Rhys has really been developing her sympathy of late. She almost always cries when Jane gets in trouble. And even when I fake cry/throw a fake tantrum to demonstrate to them how silly they look and sound, Emiline's first response is to pat me and say "It's O-Tay, Mommy. O-Tay." Besides being incredibly cute, it also distracts her from whatever she was melting about. I find so much wonder that a 17 month old will forget herself, her own pain or worry or sadness, and try to comfort her mother. I was reading today a book by Linda Eyre, just a few pages, but she mentioned how undervalued motherhood has become. I think we forget how much we mean to them. How, as the mother, I am the center of their world. I'm the sun. or gravity. I matter everything to her. And I need to remember that at the top of my mind, keep it fresh, so I will feel the awesome importance of my job everyday. Or night. She just started wailing...;-)