The Worry Makes Me Tired

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My youngest has reached a glorious stage where she is sleeping through the night consistently. My oldest has also figured out that she is praised (and sometimes rewarded) when she sleeps all night in her own bed. My husband and I are finally catching up on sleep after a handful of years where consistent sleep just didn’t happen. So why, WHY am I still so tired?  The worry. The worry makes me tired. 
 
I worry about parenting. Am I too strict? Am I strict enough? Am I slowing our days down to a good pace? Do we need more activities? Less? Am I saving enough for college and weddings and all the things I would love to help my girls with? 
 
I worry about my marriage. Are we spending enough quality time together? Are we communicating enough? Are we having fun? Do we need more date nights? Or more quality time at home? Are we putting ourselves first?
 
I worry about our health. Everyone’s health. I want my grandparents to stick around for a long time. I want my parents to take care of themselves. I want my husband to watch his diet. I want to make it to the gym consistently. I want to be proactive, especially with my family’s history of ovarian and breast cancer. 
 
I worry about my friendships. Am I investing enough time in all the people I love? Am I saying no too often? Am I going to too many things? Am I invested in too many activities or groups or causes?
 
I worry about my job. Should I be working right now? Am I putting in too many hours? Am I giving 110%? Am I moving upward in my career? Should I be more aggressive so all eyes are on me? Should I keep to myself so the job gets done, and not at the expense of my family? 
 
And when I’m done worrying about all that. I worry about the world. 
 
It is the nature of being a mother, a daughter, a wife, a friend. It is MY nature of having a large tribe of people that I care for deeply. 
 
The worry is not going to go away. I care too much. So I work on not being overwhelmed. I work on worrying over one thing at a time. I work on writing my worries down so that they are somewhere, waiting for me when I’m ready to pick them up and fret over them again. 
 
So yes, I get the pleasure of tucking my girls in at night and curling into my own glorious, king-sized bed, but those circles under my eyes won’t be disappearing just yet. The worry still makes me tired and I have a feeling I will be working on that sleep thing for many more years to come. 

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