I'm always behind. I've got someone's shoulder to rub or hand to hold or someone's angry that I'm not paying attention to them, and people are hungry, tired, dirty, sad and it is most definitely my job to fix it. And the neverending email and calendar and reminder chatter, plus doing something for people that have it way, way, worse than me. I finally get my babies fed, washed up and mentally stable... they climb into bed and all is quiet. I look around and there are little piles of clothes everywhere. Pieces of paper, pencils and toys scattered into the corners. I save it for another day.
That's not to mention documenting our lives. Lives that go by so quickly that sometimes I swear it's just a dream. A jumble of toes and words and warmth, phone calls, weather, laughter, vacuuming and dinner. It's such a good life, such a great fountain of freedom and creation. I love it. I plan to find a balance between work, enjoyment and documentation. I know I can.