Tired

Life has felt challenging lately.

There are, of course, the everyday tasks that never quite get done. The laundry and dishes and cleaning and upkeep, the balancing of school schedules and volunteer events. But the most draining (for all parties involved) are the late nights twice a week when my husband goes straight from work to grad school, the 20-day "weeks" that blur together when he has a drill weekend, my own health issues that suddenly require so much extra time and effort, and our new mission to become our daughter's greatest advocate.

It feels like like I've been trying to run from the avalanche for so long, but it's finally caught up with me. I know I'm not buried yet--I know I'm still at the surface, and I know I can dig out of it. But digging out is tough. It seems like a never-ending process. And I am tired. So very, very tired.

But you know what?
It's okay to feel tired. 

It's okay to feel stressed.
It's okay to sit the kids in front of the TV once in awhile without peppering myself with the inner dialogue that they are losing brain cells and I am the worst mother ever because they recite the Tide commercial whenever we pass the laundry aisle in the store.
It's okay to laugh at myself because in my ridiculous haze I ran the mircrowave for five minutes while the food I intended to heat up was still sitting on the counter.
It's okay to put on yoga pants some days and stick a hat on my unwashed head.
It's okay not to scrub every dish in the sink just because someone is coming over.
It's okay to have to say "sorry" to the kids sometimes--to say I was wrong and ask for their forgiveness.
It's okay to say "no" sometimes--"no" to play dates, parties, favors, requests for help--"no" to one, some, or all invitations that come our way. And not feel guilty.
It's okay to set boundaries.
It's okay to cry.
It's okay to admit that I can't do it all.
That I don't have it all together.
That I can't be everything to everyone even if I want to.
That I have and will fail on occasion.
That some days are a make-it-though-to-the-next minute ordeal.

It doesn't mean that I don't live a very good life.
It doesn't mean I don't love my family. Or my friends.
It doesn't mean that I'm a bad mother or a bad friend.
It doesn't mean I'm not blessed.
It doesn't mean that I need to riddle myself with guilt for feeling stressed just because I know that my problems are a breeze compared to everyone else who is dealing with so much more.
It doesn't mean that I must force myself to ignore the reality of my emotions.

It just means that sometimes, even when life is wonderful, I need a break. Because what I do is hard work.
Hard work that requires my perpetual attention.
Hard work with needs sometimes only I can fulfill.
Hard work with no quitting time.
Hard work that has me stuck in the "tunnel of motherhood" by Thursday evening each week, or whenever a million and one other conditions magically combine to create the Perfect Storm.

So sometimes, it's okay that I just need to sneak off and find my own little corner of peace, give that nod to reality, and allow myself to confess that 24/7/365 people-caretaking is hard so that I can regain some perspective.
So I can occasionally think about things that are above a first grade level of comprehension and use words that contain more than four syllables.
So I can breathe and hear the elusive, faint sound of silence that is so precious.
So I can reflect on the beautiful things that get lost in the tornado of chaos and buried under the mountain stress.
So I can listen to the quiet whisper in my soul that helps me sort out the most important truths of all:

That the hardest work I do is also indisputably the most rewarding work I could ever do. 
That even though sometimes the work feels thankless, a chorus of a thousand 'thank-yous' could never carry my heart as far as a little goodnight kiss on my cheek.

That the most challenging tasks--which require the most blood, sweat, and tears--bring the greatest return when it comes to real joy. 

....Maybe not always immediately, maybe not in the next few minutes.

But invariably I'll feel at least one palpable moment of joy before my head hits the pillow. 

...Maybe I not when I'm stuck in the Cloud Of Stressful Frustrated Fatigue. 

But always, always, when I get the chance to step back and see some of the most profoundly simple delights of the past week. 

Like my baby saying "wuv you!" 

Like my son learning how flowers grow and excitedly telling his father about it. 

Like my daughter who showed me how easily she can swing across the big kid monkey bars. 

Like the flowers that arrive from my husband for no reason.

Like the ongoing epiphany that somehow, this is the life that I get to have. 

Then the joy is unfathomable.

I know you're tired, too, my friend. 

I know you are living in a world of frustrations. 

I know that right now, something is probably stressing you out.

It's okay. 

Be tired. 

But please, just know that you're not alone.

Keep digging. [I will too]. 

Then please let go of just one thing. Just one. 

Please take a peaceful moment to yourself. Just a moment. 

And please, pretty please, don't deny yourself the possibility of that palpable joy that could follow.

You deserve it, my friend. And so do I.