An hour before I put my kids to bed, I limit the liquid intake. Regardless of my constant reminders to drink-as-much-as-you-can at dinner time, I am always greeted with the but-mom-I-am-going-to-die-if-I-don't-get-a-drink complaint as I am turning off their bedroom light.
There was a time when I was extremely thirsty. Thirsty for some form of accomplishment... something to prove to the world that behind the diapers, laundry, and dishes I still existed. I wanted it bad... and I sacrificed for it. My home, my marriage, and my relationship with my children struggled in their backseat ride towards my dreams. Dreams that could not be put on hold. I spent a lot of time blogging, sewing, cooking, writing, editing photos, and reading... assuring myself that once I was accomplished, I would have time for my kids.
The thirst for more, unrealistic expectations, and the "desire to do it all" act as tiny holes placed in the bottom of a cup. Tiny holes that decrease the amount of love, joy, and happiness our souls can hold. Tiny holes that resonate a constant cry of thirsty-ness.
As I unpack my expectations for my new life next to boxes filled with plates and silverware, I am tossing out the cups with holes. Will you join me?
Favorite Posts of the Week:
-- I love these two posts by Emily P. Freeman entitled When Saying You're Sorry is a Bad Idea and How Saying Yes (and no) Shape a Life Story.
-- I love these 10 Points of Joyful Parenting by Ann VosKamp
-- I love this you tube video. My happiness drawer requires an entire compartment dedicated to ants in my pants.
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