retrieving my mojo

Sometimes my mojo goes missing.

It slowly wanders away and then one day, I find it has done gone left the building.

Friday was the day.

I spent the morning catching up on blogs, facebook, email, current events, and some sleep.

I loaded up a Little in the car to run errands and on our way to Target {of all places} 

I start to cry

A maneuver not lost on the 2 year old sitting behind me who keeps saying "Mommy, cry?"

But when I try to pinpoint the origin of those alligator tears, they fall more fiercely:

I feel pressure to be all things at all times 

{mother, wife, friend, domestic goddess, clinician, citizen...}

It seems like most everyone around me has their shit together 

{even though I know full well this is not true}

When I play the "what if..." game, it seems like I would be happier/richer/more stable/content if 

I had made different decisions.

{also not true}

I feel pressure {mostly internal} to try to be someone or something else.

My husband called while I was in the store.

{imagine the absurdity of trying to explain the state of my mojo into a cell phone while searching for light bulbs}

He said, It's a good thing you have dinner plans tonight, Daph.

{So true}

I spent the rest of the afternoon with the Littles and then drove away, with music blaring, to have dinner with a good-for-the-soul friend.  I didn't have to pretend. I didn't have to apologize.  

There was no expectation that my mojo would join us for dinner.  

And we talked - for a long while. 

Saturday I slept and baked and worked and snuggled.

Sunday I baked and cooked.  

All day.

I wrote blog posts in my head.

I chased the kids around the house. 

I snuggled with the boys.

I watched Dexter.

I ate good food.

I found my mojo -

In being all things I wanted to be...

 for me