Crazy

My baby is almost a year old. I can't believe I've been without my sanity for that long. I'm getting really good at it.

I was watching my nephews play in the pool and I thought, longingly, about the days when I didn't have any responsibilities. I felt a twinge of annoyance as my daughter required yet more of my attention. I wished for a second that I could be back in a place where it was just about me.

Then, as my daughter laughed at my silly face, I realized that my time is up. I've had my me time. Yes, I can still have moments of time to myself, but it's my turn to have it be about my daughter... just as my mother did for me. And when it was just about me, I pined for a little someone who would be the recipient of all my time and love. I am living in this moment of my life. My me moment is passed. I'm not supposed to be able to run quickly into a store. I'm not supposed to be able to get dressed or go to the bathroom without interruptions. All of those things are overrated anyway.

Besides, this moment is already so much better than my me time ever was. Her smiles make the mess on the floor worth it. Her cute sleeping positions make my hairy legs and dirty hair acceptable.

I need to stop expecting myself to accomplish everything. I don't need to have it all together all the time. I'm starting to realize that. A mess is just a mess. If I don't get to it today, it will be there tomorrow. If I wait to clean it till tomorrow I'll be saving myself time by not having to pick up today's mess separately. A mess is a beautiful expression of chaos and randomness. I think I'll leave all the messes and refer to them as art.