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I’m a night owl. Totally and completely. I’d rather work at 11 PM—or 1 AM—than 1 PM. When it comes to wake up time, the kids don’t give me much of a choice by about 6:45 most days, so I’m burning my candle at both ends. Add to that the constant scream-fest of raising three bickering kids five and under, and I’m worn out by about 10 AM. (Until 10 PM, when I get a second wind. WHEEE!)
I usually take this as a sign that I’m a horrible mother/woman/person/being (it goes downhill from there), that I was never cut out for motherhood. But maybe it’s actually a sign I’m doing things right. In a book I read this weekend (When Times Are Tough by John Bytheway), I came across this quotation (from p 141, emphasis mine):
This is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; the being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown on the scrap heap; the being a force of Nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.—George Bernard Shaw, in William I. Nichols, Words to Live By, 79
This section of the book was about the virtue of work. Whenever I think about that subject, I feel guilty. I didn’t like working at a 9 to 5 job, and I’m pretty lazy and often unmotivated to change. (I’d show you my kitchen floor to prove it, but you can just take my word for it.)
But then I remember: I’m a mother! My whole life is work! Physically demanding, emotionally draining work. And though I often feel like I won’t make it through the rest of the day when I’m exhausted and out of patience, maybe in some ways it’s a sign I’m doing something right: something I’ll have to do time and again, but which will add up to the sum of a life well lived.
What do you think?
Photo by The Pug Father