My phone sits on our kitchen counter, buzzing. The dark red laminate counter that I’ve always tolerated frames my iPhone: an underestimated rectangle of information, connection, and distraction, bordering addiction. I make a mental note to add kitchen countertops to the very end of a long list in my mind of things to do, with those things that I merely wish were different, at the end.
Today, at the beginning of the list are things like: laundry, get sandwich bags, clean toilets, return library books, and write. The thing is, most days I can’t seem to get beyond the beginning of the list where the daily, never-ending tasks stay. Some days, I don’t even get through those, and my family takes turns all week fetching clean clothes from the dryer and picking outfits out based on which items have the least number of wrinkles. I hear people say mothers are superheroes, but today, I can’t even remember where I put my coffee cup.
By the time I finish thinking through my list, the phone stops buzzing. I add call sister back to today’s mental list and scratch off kitchen countertops from the bottom because in the end, it’s not a necessity, and I’m too overwhelmed to believe we could ever get there. I scroll Instagram and see someone’s renovated kitchen and someone else leading their own business dream with lipstick on and toddlers dressed like trendy teens in tow, while my own toddler calls from the bathroom for help wiping and I realize that one of my sons still isn’t dressed for school.
These thoughts enter my mind: I am the only one. Everyone else is getting it all done and living their best life dream-chasing in unwrinkled clothes. My gifts and dreams are at risk of being lost in the wash like notes and dollar bills we forget we had in our pockets.
This post was originally written for (in)courage. Click on the link to read the rest!
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