Letting it go.

A few years ago, a friend of mine apologized as we entered her home that it was so messy. She remarked, "I gave up a clean house after my fourth child was born." At the time, I had only two children. Easy peasy. I was arrogant enough to believe that, when my fourth child was born, I would still be able to maintain a level of control that would permit me to have an orderly home. And, if my third and fourth children had been born with the natural aptitude for breastfeeding that my first two had, perhaps I may have realized that goal.
It seems that someone is laughing at me from above. Something broke somewhere between my second and third daughters. Rachel required physical therapy to figure out how to eat. Eve has similar problems, but since we've been down this road before, she's enduring her training at home. After almost two weeks, she's finally catching on. Two weeks! It seems like an eternity to this impatient soul.
I've learned a great deal as a mother. I'm still learning. This time around, I'm finding that success is not attainable through ones own merits alone. I simply can't do it all. So I'm letting it go. I'm pleading with the Lord for help, and thankfully, He's extending mercy and we're getting by. For now, though, I'm going to have to deal with my unswept floor, my unkempt children, my own growling stomach that has to wait for every other mouth to be fed, and my inability to get out the door before 9 am. We're healthy and we're happy. And frankly, that's good enough.