Babies screaming. Toddlers protesting. Little kids fighting. I’m in the midst of that somewhere, trying to temper the chaos. I remember when my first, E, was four months old. She was a high needs baby. She wasn’t a good sleeper and was just a sensitive little thing. The depth of her need stifled my independent spirit. It tied my hands in a way that I had never known. Looking back on that, I can smile. Because I know now that, though it doesn’t get easier, it doesn’t last forever. And perhaps I’ve just changed my mind. I’ve given in. I’ve humbled myself to the needs of these little people.
It’s easy to get too wrapped up– to ignore my needs.
I crave time to connect with who I was before I had kids. The gypsy soul. The singer. The writer. The dreamer. I’m still that girl. And that girl needs to buy some ice cream and sit out by the water doing absolutely nothing. When the task at hand feels so very large, it’s nice to feel small, to be reminded of God’s greatness. That He is in control. He is Mighty. He is Able.