Romanticizing Reality

I don't have my own office, or even my own uninterrupted writing space. I use my little desk when it's not occupied with a husband doing homework, and the bed if I'm feeling too ill to sit in a chair. I attempt to go to coffee shops and write, to change my creative surroundings whenever I can, but because of where I live, it's not often enough. Always, a child beckons at the door, or pulls me away from a battle between wizard and Curse Breaker to tell me he is hungry. Always, I'm left torn between the two lives I adore. I don't have designated alone hours to write in that nonexistent writing space. Instead I have a house full of little shoes, piles of dirty (and sometimes clean) laundry, hot wheels, children's art supplies, and demanding tasks. I don't have a nanny. I am the nanny. The only full time job I have is Mother. And Wife. Everything else is just wishful thinking, for the time being anyway. Today I did the usual. Got the kids ready for sc...

Generally, I'm against using my blog as a bitching session journal, but I'm breaking the rule today. Kind of. We all experience things in our lives, during certain periods, where we raise our fists in the air (figuratively, but sometimes literally) and curse. We wonder why certain things are happening to us, or why certain things aren't . We wonder, especially if we know certain things will happen, when they will come to pass. My life is all about that recently. I need to emphasize first that I have too many blessings to count. I am extremely happy with my life. Of all things I have been blessed with, my family (husband and children) is the greatest, and I feel overcome with joy when I think about it. I am so incredibly lucky/blessed, and if my family was all I had, as long as I had them, I would be content. Yet, my blessings go so far beyond that. Great town, great house, great job, great friends, great gospel and ward, working vehicles, great teachers for my kids, gr...