Just breathe....

I am a mother. I love being a mother most of the time. Honestly though, I struggle with the time commitment. I like to have alone time on a daily basis. My brain is easily overwhelmed. I don't enjoy being in a large crowd. I prefer one on one conversations as opposed to large group interactions. I like to "zone out" and not have to think about anything. I have struggled with balancing my needs and the needs of my children. I have often asked God if  I was really cut out for this mothering thing. I feel so selfish with my own neediness of self. I know that God cut me out for this even though I am overwhelmed at times. I am kind of in that place again, with being in school and my involvement in other activities and my home responsibilities. It all feels like a bit much. I was looking through some of my poetry from earlier this year and found a poem I had written about this very issue. It was good to read again, it centered me and reminded me about what was really important. I know taking care of myself is also important, and I am working on that. I think just like other intense times in life, it's usually seasonal.

Honestly


Please tell me that you struggle too
You've woken up unable and blue
With worries deep as the sea
Wondering, "What will become of me?"

Unfocused in my youth
Too social, to tell the truth
Couldn't see the future clear
A deep canyon from here to there
Wasted time, wasted space
I wasn't sure how the world was laced

Grown up now- wondering how
To redeem the time wasted
Don't want the past duplicated
Three kids in tow, a husband too
Should be happy, feeling blue

Unfocused, with sleepless nights
and sibling fights
and cooking dinner, grocery shopping
and paying bills
mounting up like the hills
just want that education
Going slowly, class by class
Ten years down the looking glass-
that seems lost in the canyon of time

I have a dime, need to make a dollar
Makes me wanna holler!
I want to stand upright, screw my head on tight
Get a restful night and be- free
But, " what will become of me?"
What do my kids see?
I want to be available, and capable
to love, give and sit and play
give thanks and pray

I open the jar that holds my dreams
I hear the wind, it's silent screams
I see the reflection in the mirror
new lines have appeared that were never there

What will become of me?
Not old, only thirty-three
Ungrateful I have been
Not able to see
The beauty of life
been blinded by strife

I shake my dreams from the jar
and hold them in my hands
I call my children
"kids," I say
There's a game I'd like to play
"What is it?" they shout out  with glee
It's called, "I'm so glad to have you!"
They look at me strange, confused and confounded
but that's okay
because now I'm grounded
and with a new understanding, now I see
three dreams surrounding me.

Charissa Carroll 1/30/10