Better

Okay, I am feeling a little better today. I think yesterday was just the first day of the summer so far where the kids and I have been stuck in the house with nothing to do. There has been so much going on and we had been so busy that it was somewhat of a letdown to not have something major to accomplish. I do miss writing and will probably have to start all over with my career in a couple of years, but I wouldn't trade being home for anything. My kids are growing up so fast and I know I only have a few more years to enjoy this stage of their lives. I've experienced parenting of preteen/teenagers and lets just say I am content to let that phase wait waaaaaaaaaaaay out there in the distance for now.

At this moment, there are five children in my care which may seem stressful, but actually makes it a little easier. At least my kids have someone to play with besides each other and me! I might even get to sort through the pile of mail and target bags on my dining room table.

On a happy note, Marshall will be coming tomorrow so we are all excited about that. Ethan has been asking for weeks when he'll be here and some times he'll look at me with his bottom lip poked out and say "I miss Marshall, Mama." He really looks up to his big brothers. Hallie, of course, loves him just as much, but she can understand the meaning of "one week" or "5 days" a little better.

Okay, gotta go check on the kids. Hallie seems to be holding her own up there with four boys, but then again, when does she ever have a problem with that ;) ?

The Blues...

Wow, I keep meaning to write, but I just never have a moment any more. Who was I kidding when I said I hoped to write more this summer? That's just not realistic. I'm either cleaning up a mess while the kids make a new one, at the grocery store, folding laundry or refereeing a squabble. I am thinking about incorporating a coach's whistle into my daily routine. Just kidding...

I guess I just feel that all the work I do gets undone in the blink of an eye and leaves me feeling like I have no real purpose. My writing career has gone down the tubes in the last few years and although it's a sacrifice I chose and want to make, it's still disheartening at times. Why did I study under some of the best poets in the southeast for four years? Why did I fall asleep on my keyboard at 3 a.m. every night for two years? I keep thinking one of these days I'll have more time and it just never happens. I used to pound out a poem, story or review once a week. People used to pester me for my writings. Those days are long gone, I guess.

Okay, I think I have a case of the stay at home mom blues. I couldn't bear to have it any other way, but I just feel this way some times. Is this normal?