Some days I feel like a goddess–powerful, strong, sustaining life with the miracle that is my body . . .
And some days I feel like an over-stretched sack of humans, fraying at the edges and straining at the seams.
Some days I feel accomplished–homemade, healthy dinner on the table, laundry done, toddler happy and tired from a day of outside adventure . . .
And some days I feel like putting on pants is more of a challenge than I have the will to take on.
Some days I feel happy knowing my babies are coming soon and I’ll have two sweet, tiny boys to snuggle and feed . . .
And some days all I can think about is the sheer volume of gross bodily fluids I will be cleaning up for the next two-three years.
Some days, I look at my handsome husband in awe of all that he is to me and to our growing family–how hard he works, how much of my slack he takes up as I get more and more ungainly, and how much love, time, and energy he gives to me and our daughter.
And some days, I want to punch him in the throat for telling me he understands how I feel or complaining that his back hurts or whining as he slowly and dramatically perishes of a “man-cold.”
Some days, I think to myself I am never having another child as long as I live after these two . . .
And some days . . . just kidding, that one is actually all of the days. ; )