I’ve never been one to back down from a fight. I don’t like to admit defeat. I’m not unaccustomed to experiencing revelations.
I can’t do it all, and I certainly can’t do it all alone.
This is the first time I’ve been able to say that comfortably. That’s not to say it doesn’t make me uncomfortable to say it, but at least I don’t feel wrong about it. This is also the first time I’ve said that without feeling like I should be able to do it all.
I shouldn’t. Despite all my badassery, I’m not Superwoman. I can’t work a full-time job AND keep the house clean (with four dogs, that’s a full-time job on its own) AND have dinner ready when my husband gets home from work AND spend quality time with my son each day. There aren’t enough hours.
I can’t do it all. So I won’t try to anymore.
Focus on the important. Forget the rest.
What goes around comes around, honey. You won’t get too far in life talking shit, and even though you think you can, you can’t do it all on your own, either. Just remember that next time you need some help.
Somewhere, among the diaper boxes full of unwanted and outgrown clothing… under last week’s laundry waiting to be put away, beneath the dust and clutter, there’s a life. There are memories of date nights and late nights, high heels and low-cut tops. Sweet kisses, deep kisses, I-want-more kisses.
Somewhere, between the sighs of exasperation and desperation, through the moans and groans… there is good.
There are smiles with the frowns, laughter despite tears.