I'm feeling very blah about work lately. I get into phases where I just really hate the fact that I'm working, and I feel myself sliding into one of those phases again.
I'm thankful for my job, and I appreciate the simple blessing of having a paycheck when so many people are struggling to bring one home all around the country/world every day.
But I get so down on myself for the amount of - or lack of, really - time that I spend with my children. My baby turned a year old on Sunday, and it feels like it was a couple weeks ago that I brought him home from the hospital. Hendrix calls the babysitter "mommy." (That one brings tears to my eyes as I write it now.) I've been focusing on making the little amount of time I DO spend with the kids the best I can, but it still hurts to drop them off at the sitter/daycare each day and not see them until ten hours later.
There's gotta be more to life, right?