Feels like everywhere you turn there's new book or news article about how our modern life is so busy, filled with loud technology, frantic. I just don't connect with it because I'm not living that life. I live a slow life. My everyday pace is set by two-year-olds. So many of the people I know are accomplishing so much - PhDs, working a full-time job, writing, running organizations, meetings. I bake cakes with my girls. I change diapers. I sew blouses that will fit my tiny Josephine's porcelain frame. I do a lot of dishes, bake a lot of bread, play with my kids.
I only know a handful of other mothers who are doing it like I am, and, sometimes, I wonder if I'm not doing it right. If I'll look back and wish I'd tried to do more outside the home. The world can make you feel like that. That somehow you're less of a person if you're not involved outside the home, or that your husband will tire of you, or that paying other people to take care of your kids so you can be a professional is what is normal. But it feels right, what I'm doing. Its just easy to doubt because my everyday tasks are so small and look unimportant from the outside.