THE VIEW FROM HERE

As I sit here now in the dark, writing solely by the light of this screen as my little ones lay sleeping close by, I can only be thankful for how fulfilling these past seven weeks have been for me.
Since the birth of yet a second daughter, I've done everything possible to make the very most of every moment I've been able to spend at home with my two girls. Knowing this is an opportunity I may never have again, I've tried to make every second seem a minute; every minute an hour; and every hour a day. I've lain awake nights, rocking the newborn nuzzled so tightly against my chest until the wee hours of the morning, all the while trying desperately not to close my eyes for fear of wasting a single moment. And with each new day, I've strived to accomplish the many things I've always intended to with my older daughter - to be the outgoing mom Alex deserves - but that time and responsibility do not always allow.
But yet, despite my very best efforts to make every minute seem an eternity, the inevitable has come. In less than two days, I will return to my career and the responsibilities of everyday life. It seems that although my world seemed to stop for a short time, giving me the opportunity to think closely about the direction my life has taken and who I've become, the world around me has kept on at the same fast pace (no surprise, I guess). Bills continue to fill my mailbox; the most sincere of wishes have failed to change the fact that our home needs much more than the usual woman's touch; and, as we establish our small family, my husband and I find ourselves wanting for the usual... a nice home in the country, the ability to buy once in a while for luxury rather than necessity, and overall financial security that results solely from years of hard work or more than a little luck with the lottery. And since we don't gamble, I guess you know where that leaves us.
I am also a strong believer that everyone should engage in something personal in which they can take pride - something to call their own. Writing is that "something" for me, and I must remind myself sometimes how truly fortunate I am to be able to write for a living. That, too, is an opportunity that should not be taken for granted.
But it seems there are two distinct halves to my being.
The first is the woman who wants desperately to be the one to kiss her children's "owies" when they fall, to offer security from their fears and act as a pillow for their tears. The mother who is witness to their first steps, first words or at that irreplaceable moment when they pedal for the first time with growing confidence on a two-wheeler. It should be me who knows whether they prefer apples to strawberries, blue to green, Winnie the Pooh Tales to nursery rhymes, or color books to freehand. And it should be me on whom they fall asleep each night, one on each side, tired by the back and forth rocking motion of the recliner. And as I put them to bed each eve, it will be their father and I who recite their bedtime prayer with them and tuck them tightly into their covers with a peck on the cheek just before the lights turn out.
To parent a child is a divine privilege. I don't intend to forget that.
In the same respect, I, like many, am a woman who seeks individuality. To feel a complete person, I need to experience the success, independence and creativity outlet that my career offers - to achieve a sense of accomplishment both as a mother and in my personal abilities. As time spent with my children is a sweet release from the pressure of deadlines and great expectations, writing, too, is a release in that it gives me a momentary escape from diapers, laundry, sibling squabbles and the like.
With a little luck and perseverance, I can only hope that I will discover a middle-ground in which the mother and writer in me can both meet with great success.