I love being a mother. I think I'm good at it. I love all the things it brings to me now, all it will bring later. And I'll tell you now, my willingness to raise children would be limited only by silly resources like money and physical health. I would keep adding children to our family by adoption until I fell over. And yet.
And yet, there's this other thing. This idea of paths not taken. The roads we look down, but keep walking on by. I want it all. I want a big, giant life with as many kids as I can take care of well AND time to make art with my hands and to write a novel, and to read, to travel, time to be in service to a greater good, time alone with Erik, time alone with myself. I want it all.
Is it too much to ask?
Maybe.
Am I tired just thinking about it?
You bet your ass.
Will I stop trying?
No way.
MY FAVORITE PROMPT
18 hours ago
2 comments:
I came back to this post to make sure I commented a ditto.
Ditto.
There, done.
I am wondering why deep down I've always wanted lots of kids and then here on the regular surface of life I am very fully busy with the two boys - and wondering how I will do once this Little Sister comes home. Whew.
As for everything else, well, I let it all percolate in my brain and continue to collect books and make notes and then hope I live well and long - to 100 would be good for me.
yea. i'm thinking i need to make it to at least 150 to get it all in.
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