I've been away from my husband and kids for fifteen out of the last twenty-six days. Ten days in Sri Lanka, five days hosting a creative weekend, a reality show thrown in between.
I am tired in a way I have never been before, I am filled up in a way that I haven't been in years.
I am craving my children. I want to hold their little hands, hold the heaviness of their sleeping bodies. I want to look up across the table and smile a secret to my husband. As much as possible, I accept the chaos of our life and schedule, those things both chosen and not. But after fifteen (twenty-six) days of missing, I want to push my daughter in the swing, with no reason to stop.
I am headed home to kiss the faces I love. These weeks have given me purpose and direction, bumping straight into who I am as a wife and mother. I always thought when they said, "You can have it all, but not at the same time," they meant seasons of life.
Now I think they just meant in the same day.
