Just yesterday I was watching the countdown to the New Year. Today I realized it was the end of the first week of March. What happened to January? Did I sleep through it? And February - did I blink and it disappeared? Ever since I was little people told me time flies as you get older but passing at the speed of light is ridiculous.
When I am writing, time seems to move in slow motion. There is never enough time for me to get everything accomplished I have laid out. But I push forward. If I am not writing other things get attention but I always feel "I should be writing". Is there a correct balance when you are a wife and a mother and a friend and all those other hats that women tend to heap upon themselves?
When women do things which enrich themselves and not their family, are we being selfish? I learned a lot time ago I cannot be responsible for any one's happiness except my own. However, as a corollary to that statement, if I am not happy I do not have the right to inflict my misery on others. So I write. It makes me happy, which in turn makes me a happier person for my husband and my children. So - am I selfish or am I doing my best to make a better family life?
I propose I am making my home happier. Because - if Momma ain't happy...