I feel like I've been praying for patience about as often as I exhale these days. Well, we all know what happens when you pray for patience: you're blessed with opportunities to develop patience. Sigh.
I only have two children (very good children, I might add), but ever since we found out I'm expecting, I think I mentally consider myself to already have three to care for. I know, that's borrowing trouble before it's here. But it's hard to forget about the little one in your womb, especially when you're trying to visualize what your life will be like with three children ages 4 and under. How do we run errands? How will mealtimes work out? Can I still coordinate naps? Will I be changing diapers all day? If I ever wanted to travel with them alone, would I be able to manage a bathroom pitstop without help? What do I do with two wee ones when it comes time to start homeschooling Emma?
It's all a bit overwhelming. I'm at a loss some days, blowing around like a leaf in the wind...taken in every which direction, with no clear plan.
I also feel a little bit over-demanded of physically sometimes. It seems like between meals and snacks, I'm always feeding someone. Food can't be cut up fast enough, drinks poured quickly enough. Not to mention I'm a pregnant scavenger myself, searching for food about every two hours. Yet I fear leaving the kitchen, lest I get attacked by...dun dun dun...Mt. Washmore! Yes, the laundry pile is large enough to walk on its own and eat me alive right now.
So there you have it. The honesty of a mother having a trying week, with two children at very needy ages. It'll pass. It always does. You just have to vent sometimes, you know?