It’s been a long couple weeks. I’ve felt pulled in so many directions. I’ve felt like I haven’t been able to give my full time and attention to my career or my family. In the past two and a half weeks I’ve been in seven airports, five cities, three hotel rooms and two countries. My head is jumbling up my to do list so that it reads: “Schedule thirty minutes with the North East sales team to order the dog’s heartworm medication”

I keep having a reoccurring dream at night where I accidentally lose my children in a sea people at an elaborate birthday party that I am responsible for hosting. Nearly every day in my calendar is marked up with several places to be, things to accomplish, and MUST DO TODAY! directives written in red and circled three times.

Brent is shouldering most of the household to-dos entirely on his own. Everly is fluctuating between throwing her arms around my neck in tears and saying “Stay home and play with me mommy” and “I don’t want you! I want daddy!”

I nursed Arlo for the last time two weeks ago and I’m mourning a little bit over the end of it. It shook me how easily he points to his crib now at bedtime, ready to snuggle in and sleep like a little boy instead of the baby I was still holding in my arms just last month.

Work is full and good but it feels like a monster. I am receiving kudos for my efforts and the push to do more. There is more visibility and anticipation on the programs I am creating than I have had at any time in my career. I am constantly trying to learn how and when to switch off and on my mama brain and my work brain. Back and forth I go, sometimes in the same hour.

I’ve been giving myself a guilt trip over not having the time to make the children’s halloween costumes. It’s something I said I always wanted to do (my mom always made mine my growing up) but I know I just don’t have the time this year. I recognize how unhealthy it is to heap more guilt on myself when the reality is that I should cut myself some slack. 

Lately, I have a hard time giving myself credit for the things I do accomplish and for learning to let go of the sometimes unreasonable expectations I set. This is the thing I find myself praying for so often. Lord, let me be comfortable with who I am and what I am able to give. Let me embrace my limitations and enjoy even the smallest of accomplishments. I know it’s good for me to always strive for more, but it’s detrimental to not accept that sometimes I am doing all that I can.

I am not the best. The greatest. I am not perfect. I am not superwoman.

I will fail. And make do. And play catch up. And sometimes I will miss out.

but I am trying.

and that is enough.

I am enough.