I wish I could go days without sleeping and still be cheerful and loving. I wish I could be the kind of parent that can work hard all day and come home and be full of energy to play with Caleb and read him extra bedtime stories when he asks. I wish I knew how to express my feelings without exploding. But like every other human before me, I fail miserably.
Sometimes I feel completely overwhelmed and suffocated by my humanness. Despite my efforts, I become fatigued too easily, and can be grumpy. I don't want to be. I get home after confronting death all day, and see the smiling faces of my beautiful children, happy to see me home and so full of life, and all I'd like to do is give them each a kiss, and take a long, hot bath, and then crawl into bed.
Why is life so exhausting, and why am I so stinking subject to my human nature?
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