Getting through the days

I am getting busier and I like it. I am not going to update now, I will do that on the weekend...a lot to write about!

However, I do want to write down what I plan on doing this weekend so I feel more obligated to get it done!

• Paint a second coat in the spare room (right now I hesistate to call it the nursery)
• workout at least once
• clean the house--I've been slacking!
• go to church
• buy a copy of Fireproof for my friend whose marriage has hit a really rough patch
• Install curtain rods and put up curtains in the spare room
• Order/buy slip cover for couch in the spare room since it goes so poorly with the new paint color
• update blog possibly with pictures of the freshly painted and curtained spare room
• have a good cry. I have wanted to cry 3 of the 4 days I have been in school. I felt like I was going to cry, but tears did not come. I think I have to have it out for a few minutes for my emotional well being.
• Do something to show Doug how much I love and appreciate him (he cooked eggplant parm tonight, I can't tell you how happy I was to come home to the smell of dinner in the oven!)
• Go grocery shopping.

This poem was posted on the message boards I go to. It was worth reposting here.

I am a Wonderful Mother

There are women who become mothers without effort,
without thought,
without patience or loss,
and though they are good mothers and love their children,
I know that I will be better.

I will be better not because of genetics or money
or because I have read more books,
but because I have struggled and toiled for this child.

I have longed and waited.
I have cried and prayed.
I have endured and planned over and over again.

Like most things in life,
the people who truly have appreciation are those
who have struggled to attain their dreams.
I will notice everything about my child.
I will take time to watch my child sleep,
explore,
and discover.
I will marvel at this miracle every day for the rest of my life.

I will be happy when I wake in the middle of the night
to the sound of my child,
knowing that I can comfort, hold, and feed him
and that I am not waking to take another temperature,
pop another pill, take another shot
or cry tears of a broken dream.
My dream will be crying for me.

I count myself lucky in this sense;
that God has given me this insight,
this special vision with which I will look upon my child.

Whether I parent a child I actually give birth to
or a child that God leads me to,
I will not be careless with my love.

I will be a better mother for all that I have endured.
I am a better wife, a better aunt, a better daughter,
neighbor, friend, and sister because I have known pain.

I know disillusionment, as I have been betrayed by my own body.
I have been tried by fire and hell that many never face,
yet given time,
I stood tall.

I have prevailed.
I have succeeded.
I have won.

So now, when others hurt around me,
I do not run from their pain in order to save myself discomfort.
I see it, mourn it, and join them in theirs.
I listen.
And even though I cannot make it better,
I can make it less lonely.

I have learned the immense power of
another hand holding tight to mine,
of other eyes that moisten as they learn to
accept the harsh truth when life is beyond hard.

I have learned a compassion that only comes by walking in those shoes.
I have learned to appreciate life.

Yes, I will be a wonderful mother.