As an adult, life is really just one big juggling act. We may have variations in the number of balls up in the air at any one time, but sometimes, even if we’re only juggling one or two balls we can slip up and drop one.

Many moms (and I’m sure women in general) will agree with me that if you want something done, you should give it to a busy woman to do. Somehow they will always manage to add that extra task to their already crazy juggling act and get it sorted. “Sure I can have one extra kid along for a play date.”, “No worries, I can collect your new *insert item here* in between my meeting and running to pick up kids from school”, “Yes, I can take on that additional project / send your emails for you / help you with your admin in between everything else I am doing”, “Of course we can have your boss around for dinner while we are renovating and the kids are sick”. Eventually though, our act becomes precarious and we become overwhelmed.

The problem is, that we get so used to having so many things on the go at once in our busy lives as women, as mothers, as significant others, and as friends that we begin to feel guilty when we are at capacity and cannot help. Somehow, many women believe that their value is dependent on their usefulness which is just NOT true.

We all have priceless worth. Not because of what we do, but because of who we are. The people who value us for who we are when we can not add another ball to the mix, or when we drop all the balls, are the best kind of people to have around. They are the people who will be there for us, no matter what.

PS. Here is a picture of a moon rise. Incredibly large, but also rather calming to look at.

Photo credit: Lesley Scott.

It was the first time I ever spoke to one of my children when they were not with me. I was driving in my car close to the airport runway when a huge aeroplane flew overhead. Without a second thought, I said “Wow, look at that plane!” to my son. A moment later, I remembered that my son was not actually in the car with me. He was visiting with his grandparents. I recall that brief moment of feeling really stupid for forgetting that my child was not even with me, but shortly thereafter I was hit with the realisation that this is what parenthood is – that feeling of being forever bonded to another human being. Feeling as if they are always with you.

This incident happened more than 15 years ago, but I still remember it with a smile. I remember it every time I see something beautiful or different and want to show it to my kids. I remember it every time I hear a good story I want to share. I remember it every time I take a breath in to call my child to dinner. I remember it because more and more often my children are not with me in the car, or the house. They are forging their own paths. They are seeing their own beautiful and interesting things. They are telling their own stories. They are creating the beginnings of their lives in which I am not always there.

It is hard. My protective mother gene is in overdrive. I have to overcome the temptation to check in a hundred times a day. I have to figure out how to make family dinners for fewer people (and sometimes for more people). I have to learn how to offer advice only when asked for and how to trust the job I have done as a parent. Also, I have to learn how to watch aeroplanes fly overhead and just appreciate the marvel of technology for myself.