The mixed emotions of a SAHM {type without deleting: post two}

Last year about this time I wrote a post about not being glamorous.  How I used to have a job I was good at.  A job where I felt adequate.

And then I became a mama.

And now I feel anything but glamorous.  Or adequate.

Maybe it's this time of year that makes me feel like this because I'm feeling it again.  This ants in my pants feeling.

I want a paycheck.  And awards (even if the award says, Most Likely to Provide Comic Relief) and customers and co-workers.  I want someone to see this good hair day.  I want to wear high heels for something other than vacuuming.

I want to not sit here thinking how one (or more) of you are shaking your head at me.  I will post this no matter what.  I will not delete it no matter what.

I know how petty all of this makes me sound.  I know how ungrateful it makes me sound.  But we all have these seasons, right?  Where we're just kinda fed up with life and ourselves?

No?  Just me?

My bad then.

One day last week the weather was decent and school was over and the girls were playing happily outside.  Giggling and chasing each other and finding bugs and getting dirt under their fingernails.  It was 11 am.  "Normal" children would have been in school and not with their mama.  They would have been seated at desks and I would not have heard their laughter.

And I sat there watching them and thinking, "this is the freaking hardest thing I do on a daily basis, but my God, I would not change it.  I would not want any other life than this one I've been afforded."

So yes, I bitch.  I moan and I groan.  And I tell you how I suck at this mom gig.  That is not a gig at all but my life.  I love my life.  I have good days.  I have good weeks.  And I take my kids to the park and I push them on the swing and I kiss owies and I make pancakes and I tousle their hair as I pass by them.

I give out hugs and kisses and I read books.

And I let out a huge sigh of relief when I shut out their light for the night.

I put my bare feet up on my husband's lap and we look at each other and he smiles that knowing smile.  Because the day is done and we made it.  We survived it.  We lived it and loved it.

Even if it was not easy.  Even if there were tears and screaming (and not just from the kids).

And tomorrow a new day will begin.  And what I feel is so mundane may just be mundane, but it's my life and I'm living it.

And I'm having a love/hate relationship with it.

But I am living it.  I won't let it pass me by.  I won't wish it away.  I may let myself dream of it being different on occasion but it's where I am.  Where God has me.

And it's GOOD.