Keep on keeping on.

Evenings in the summertime are so great. Mr. Keller comes home, we have dinner, slowly clean up, then make our way out front so we can walk the neighborhood. We usually end up at the park, which is almost always quiet. Tonight as I was laying on the grass, I was listening to Morgan's sweet little voice count to ten with Mr. Keller, anticipate underdog, and giggle from butterflies. Perfect moments come when you need them.

This morning, I asked my motherly friends what the hardest part of motherhood is for them. I've said all along how painstakingly hard it is for me to lose a steady sleep schedule, which undoubtedly comes with motherhood no matter what. As I was thinking about the different responses, I realized my friends, (mothers of all ages), identified with different challenges according to their stages of life. And in one brilliantly cliche ah-ha moment, I realized motherhood is simply hard. It's what I signed up for the moment I chose it.

All this time I've been waiting for it to get easier. If Morg would just ease out of this stage, if Shoog would only nap longer. It's not going to get easier. It gets different, but it's still hard. If it's not exhaustion, it's worry. Then it's the teenage years, and then it's goodbye, (which, by the way, the very thought of it makes me want to cry). 

If I'm too busy waiting for ease, I'm missing it all. What's hard is what's sweet. What's sweet is worthwhile. And what's worthwhile is usually the things that last. I want my family to last. And so it goes.

Thanks, friends, for turning on the light. I'm breathing deeper now and we'll keep on keeping on. Because I have this love in my heart for my children that runs deeper than I even know. It feels sort of heavenly, which tells me over and over I'm where I need to be. And I'm needed so and loved equally as much. And words can't really describe how glorious that feels to me.