My three year old is alternating between swishing yogurt around in his mouth and shouting nonsense words while my 16 month old shouts “bravo” and claps for his brother’s antics.  Meanwhile I’m trying to get through just a couple e-mails and finish my tea before it has moved from lukewarm to officially cold.

I want to pause.

I want to take in the moment and appreciate this phase of life, even in all it’s craziness.  But life keeps rambling by and I feel like I’m constantly trying to play catch up.

The anxieties creep in….
Will my house ever actually be clean again?
Am I actually spending enough time really being with my kids…not just with them but intentionally interacting?
One of these days will I completely loose my ability to have an intellectual, adult conversation?

I alternate between definitely wanting to have another child…precious cuddles, sweet baby breath and cooing, watching their peaceful slumber, all of those things they learn to do in that first year…to wandering if I am actually capable of being a good mom to the two children I already have.

My life is filled with little people, longing for a few moments to myself, and lonely, all at once.

Some days I barely make it out of my pajamas and some days I’m dressed and think I am ready to have some great impact on my family, maybe even the world, at 6am…if I could just convince the boys to eat their breakfast.

Motherhood is this beautiful, exhausting up and down hill adventure.

One minute I’m telling my 3 year old, for the thousandth time, that he needs to share with his brother, while cleaning up the giant mess said brother made when he got ahold of a glass bottle and threw it across the kitchen.  And the next moment I’m sitting on the floor with both of them on my lap, reading a book, laughing and cuddling.

Up and down. Back and forth.  Exhausting and beautiful.  And not for the faint of heart.

I’m still learning and growing in this role.

I have a long way to go.