I have arrived.

This is it, the point I wanted to reach but have struggled against invisible forces keeping me away from fulfillment: I am content being a mother.  More importantly, I am thrilled to wake up each day knowing I get to spend the next 12 or so hours with my delightful children.

A friend recently asked (on her blog) if all mothers feel bored when they are home with their babies:  The repetition is monotonous; the hours stretch forever; the empty space filled with little baby sounds and a mother talking just to hear an adult voice.  

I remember that.  Even though my time with Emily was precious, it wasn't easy.  Once Andrew came, it was filled with so much more activity--mostly of the intense variety as both kids would be screaming at once, or tag-screaming; but it was less lonely. 

Unfortunately, it came back--the boredom.  Most of it could be attributed to anxiety and depression issues, which doesn't make it any less real but can explain certain aspects.  I can say, though, at the beginning of March I noticed a significant change. Yes the days could still be called monotonous; it wasn't a change in routine, it was a change within myself. 

It started when I altered my reading interests from fiction-focused to educational-focused.  I am not opposed to fiction; but it was not satiating my intense craving for mental stimulation.  I went on a book fast for months because I felt dissatisfied with the obtuse and--too often--obscene dialogs and ridiculous plots.  I decided to try a book suggestion from one of my favorite podcasts, Stuff You Missed In History Class: The Six Wives of Henry the VIII by Antonia Fraser.     

This marvelous historical non-fiction book not only got my brain working again, but supplied my very busy mind with important topics to think about and discuss with Ben at a later time.  I started making connections between events that happened then with events that are happening now.  (It's rather sad when I realized the world's ignominious ideologies have remained stagnant--a topic for another time.) It fueled my newly acquired--or, more accurately, newly recognized--humanitarian based ideology.  

After reading that book, I inhaled many of her other books: Marie Antoinette: The Journey; Love and Louis XIV: The Women in the Life of the Sun King.  Soon I moved to other authors--David Grann, A. N. Wilson, Alison Weir.  My synapses went crazy as new relationships between the past and the present were forged in the middle of my brain.  I went to bed exhausted by the mental debates I engaged in throughout the day.

Through talking with Ben, I formed new personal philosophies which helped provide the foundation for writing the guest post, entitled My Personal Road to Salvation, for a good friend's blog. 

At the same time, I no longer needed to spend hours on the computer away from my children.  I wanted to read, play, and color with them.  I started dancing and cleaning and wreaking havoc on the household next to them rather than only observing.  It's been a remarkable shift going from dreading the day to looking forward to it.

Don't get me wrong, life isn't all roses and Playdough.  There are still days when I want to pull my hair out, but those days are much less significant when I compare them to the fun the kids and I have on a regular basis. All in all, I am content.  Happy.  Excited.

Life is good.