Busy

I am exhausted. You know, I think of my day and I know other people think, "Man, what does she do all day? Just at home with a baby? That must be great." Hell, I think it, too. What DO I do all day? Somehow at the end of the day I'm exhausted and I feel like I've been playing Beat the Clock all day, just rushing around getting this done and that done. But then I think, "Wasn't I laying around while the baby took a nap? I so should have been folding those clothes." And at the end of the day when there's still piles of folded laundry on the couch, dirty dishes in the sink, and a kitchen floor that HAS to be mopped I think, "Wow. I should have done this earlier in the day." But when? It's only when I think of the things I actually DID that I realize I've accomplished something during the day. I DID make three meals for Keeley, a meal for dinner, and feed the animals. I DID think ahead (for once) and brown the hamburger for tomorrow night. I DID clean up after each of those meals. I DID fold the laundry (that is still on the couch). I DID make sure we were home for Keeley to take her naps and eat her meals. I DID unload the dishwasher. I DID make it to the gym to work out. I DID go to the grocery store. I DID clean out the track of the sliding glass doors. I DID take a shower. I even made time to go over to a friend's house for Girl's Night. And, most importantly, I have loved, played, and cared for my baby girl. I'm exhausted just thinking about it. I love my job.