In relation to yesterday's post, I constantly feel like I am rushing somewhere. I am either rushing to work in the morning, afraid that I won't log in in time. Then, I rush through my duties at work to make sure that I get them done in the time alloted, and then I rush home to make sure that I pick up Dylan on time. During my almost daily workout, I rush so that I can get back to my family while everyone is still awake. Seems that the only time I am not rushing is while I am waking up and getting ready, and that is because I wake up before the roosters.
There was a time when rushing wasn't so important, and I was perfectly content with a dirty kitchen relaxing on the couch with Drew. Of course, then children happened, and I suddenly realized that this wasn't just about my comfort anymore. During our honeymoon, when this picture was taken, we sat for hours on our deck talking and enjoying the moonlight. Oh, how to get back to that way of life.
I have become increasingly curious to why I feel the need to run from point A to point B. It certainly isn't to get that speeding ticket that I am so sure is in my near future, but to make sure that I keep up this insane pace of life. I am sure that at some point, I will collapse and sleep for years, but I feel the need to hold that off as long as possible. Of course, Drew and my mom are completely helpful, but it doesn't make me feel any less responsible to keep everything together perfectly. I need to realize to cut myself some slack, and actually enjoy these moments of my young son's lives - and mine too, I guess.