Dry as a bone.

I know what time of year it is when I see the bags of candy corns littering the aisles of the stores I frequent.  I also know because I am scrambling back to the Pharmacy section to try a different pill that may actually work for my allergy to Sagebrush.  I wake up every morning with a violent sneezing fit with copious amounts of draining, itching, and hacking.  I should love this time of year, but with my allergies, and the impending death of vegetation and onslaught of white stuff - the crap I lovingly call "schyte" and you may call it snow - yes this makes it less enjoyable.

I spent some time outside yesterday and the sun felt warm on my back, and I longed for a book to read and a tall glass of brown bubbly to accompany me no this fine afternoon.  The kids slid down slides, swung on swings, and the girls played with a friend.  The little dude came over and showed me his new treat he found on the ground.  "DELICIOUS!' I hissed... Why oh why do you have to put everything in your mouth?!?  I let this kid out and he's like a scavenger.. trolling the premises for abandoned candies and trying to find ways to escape without me noticing. *exhale huge sigh*

I have heard many times in sermons, classes, motivational speakers and books, that in order to be a good wife, mother, friend, and such - you must first fill your own proverbial pitcher so that you can fill the cups of those around you.  In lay terms, I guess it suggests that with all the demands from you to give, give, give, and keep giving, you must first take time for yourself to fill the well before it's run dry...
Huh.  I was just thinking today about how I feel as though my well was run dry some time ago.  I don't even know what to do for myself.  Many times lately I feel as though I don't even know who I am, and wonder if the person I used to be is anywhere in sight. What do I do for myself anyway?  It seems like even water costs money.  Time is money.  I guess I felt I wasn't worth it.  Me - who made this choice to become a Mother - and I wouldn't choose to undo that choice, ever.
Everyone says this is a hard time of life - to be doing nothing of real consequence daily besides be there for my kids every day.  No Paychecks... No thank you's.  I have to be real with myself here and say that this is not always what I thought it was going to be.  Perhaps a little more glamorous.  Perhaps a little more easy.  I didn't realize that there is no time card to clock out with in Mothering.  A small break to the store or a meeting is nothing near feeling "off the clock" in this job.  It has taken every ounce of energy, and pushed through the bounds of emotional, spiritual, and mental capacity.  They don't call Motherhood the badge of honor for nothing.  It is compared to waging a WAR that you never know if you will win in the end.  Where lives depend on you, where things can get gritty, and where things can get ugly.  War has never been depicted as pleasantly perfect in every way.  War can be savage, life altering, messy, and even deadly.  However, it is with war where Hero's are found.  Those that remain on the outskirts and choose to not get involved in the war do not earn the medals that can come in no other way.

I don't see what I do as being petty, political, or nonsensical.  I know that going to battle doesn't always make sense to everyone else in the world, but it makes sense to me.  I know that the old person in me is likely forever gone.  And that's okay, really.  I can't always make sense of my life from day to day, why I worry about simple things like books, school, and piano lessons.  Molding and shaping my children is not the only thing happening - it's molding and shaping Me, too.  I'm continuing to grow and learn just as my children are.  My body has it's battle wounds - showing it's sacrifice to bring life to this world.  I haven't earned any awards, have my name on a plaque, or have any accomplishments under my name that matter.  All that matters is that I commit every day to being a Private-First Class, on the front lines of this battle called Motherhood.