Go.
Last but not least. That is how I've been thinking about
myself recently. And even though it sounds like I'm being a martyr, I don't
mean it that way at all. I just mean that since becoming a mother almost three
years ago, my life has become a lot less about, well, me, and more about the
two little girls that have become my shadows. They are more than just my
shadows though. They are also my light and my purpose, my frustration and my
joy. My every-waking-moment and my thoughts when I'm in bed and thinking about
doing it all again tomorrow.
At some point I realized I was coming in last. Not losing, just coming in last on the long list of priorities that fill the pages of my day planner. I was craving a creative outlet, which is a little interesting considering I never done something more literally creative than conceive, bear and tend to two gorgeous little girls. But something creative just for me. Something all my own. So I've been playing with my camera more and blogging more and writing in my journal more. It seemed larger creative pursuits were a little beyond the scope of my time-restraints. It seems all I do for me has to happen after the girls are in bed. Or while they are watching the iPad as I furiously type these words. But I think that is why I like this so much. Maybe I have found a new creative outlet. Because I have five minutes every Friday, or at least I can create five minutes while PBS kids plays in the background. For five minutes I will not be last, because I know I am worth more than the least.
Stop.
