Coasting.

I'm finding myself back on the gentle river of motherhood again.  Figuratively speaking, I'm coasting.  Coasting down the river, coasting through life.  I'm a little overwhelmed with what I've got on my plate (an expression I've never liked, yet here I am, using it), but I'm getting by.  Am I out of shape?  Check.  Am I sleep deprived?  Check.  Am I alternating jeans and yoga pants and what feels like the same 5 shirts every day?  Check.  Am I feeling like an okay mom vs. a great mom, most days?  Check.  Am I managing to cook a real dinner only a few nights a week?  Check.

Is all of this okay?  YES.

Because it doesn't last forever, and before I know it, Teagan will be in school every day, the house will be quiet and I can accomplish real things.  Like doing laundry.  Like exercising at a gym without being called to the baby room for a diaper change or meltdown.  Like applying makeup.  And preparing a meal without a child clinging to my leg, or pulling things out of the pantry, or wailing.  Right now those wishful things happen a little too infrequently, some of them not at all.  And that's okay.  

A few kids ago, it would stress me out a lot.  Now, it stresses me out less.  Either I'm too old to care or I've learned that time flies and this challenging phase of 15-to-36-month-olds will only last another, well, 21 months.  Hopefully it's the latter.  This baby is my last and I'm trying to slow things down and just be in the moment with her.  Take more stroller walks.  Read more books.  Give more kisses.  Be more silly.  It's not easy when there are 3 other kids with lots of kid needs, and a small rental house that gets messy in what feels like a split second.  Stress can come creeping in so quickly.  It's a challenge to beat it back, and say, "It's okay!!!"  But I have to keep at it, you know?      

FYI: The sleep deprivation is somewhat (okay, almost entirely) self imposed.  I still can't come to terms that I should go to bed before midnight.  The inner twenty-something girl won't have it.  Yet, the baby inevitably wakes up at least once during midnight and 7 am, and I jump up like it's a fire drill.  And I pay for it the next morning, but alas, I have no one to blame but myself.