Balance

I read and finished a book today for the first time in about 4 years.  Once I had a baby, I just couldn't figure out where to find the time to read... a magazine article, let alone a book!  But I've been itching to.  It's another one of those things that I've been wanting to "take back" in my life.  I used to really enjoy reading.  Especially back in the day when I commuted to work.  It's the best way to spend any amount of time spent on public transportation I think.  Even in this day of texting, and web access on every cell phone, I'd still rather read a book.  I read "The Year of Fog."  I'm sorry to admit I don't recall the author's name.. shame on  me. It was ok.  It was the story of a woman who lost her step daughter-to-be at the beach and the year that follows.  She is a photographer, and one day she brings her fiance's daughter to the beach with her in San Fransisco, and she loses her in the fog, and the girl just vanishes.

I had a very strong feeling of guilt as I read the book over the past 2 or 3 weeks.  I felt like a neglectful mother--- especially given the content of the story I was reading.  My boys are constantly in my ear, my space, my brain.   It is really hard to concentrate on a book when you're a stay at home mother of a 2 and 4 year old.  At least for me it is.. I'm bad about the fact that I am at their beck and call.  The say Mama, and I'm at attention. I drop what I'm doing to tend to whatever important and/or insignificant thing that they want or need.  It's a flaw of mine.  I always did it, but ever since moving in  with my parents, it's gotten worse.  I feel the need to be on top of them all the time.  I never want them to need anything.. meaning, I never want either one of my parents to have to tend to their needs.  It's MY job.  It's the one and only thing I can contribute and somewhat control in this, their house that I'm living in. 

But I did it.  I forced myself to forge through and read it.  At times I felt a real, true, honest to God emotion of guilt and neglect.  I felt like I was giving more of my attention to the fictional missing little girl while I was sacrificing precious moments in  my own REAL children's lives..   When a parent thinks about the horrifying possibility of ever loosing their child, it's like a fate worse than Hell..   When you hear stories on the news of kidnappings etc, it makes you stop and look at your own child-- you might hug them and kiss them a little more that day.  You might find yourself checking on them in their beds one or two more times than usual that night.  You might find yourself thanking God for the gift of your children and pray that they will always be happy and healthy and unharmed...

But then life happens and you forget.  You get sucked into a reality tv show and so you give the kids an ice pop or cookie to distract them for a few minutes while you catch up on what you missed last week.  You might be on the phone with a sister or girlfriend and walk away from the kids ignoring their calls and requests and out stretched hands.
It's so hard (at least for me)  to figure out the right balance.  I don't know if I'm supposed to  be shutting them out for a little bit here and there while I read, for their own good?  I don't want to raise needy co-dependent kids, right?   But I also don't want them to feel ignored or unloved- even if it's only for a minute or two.  No one in this world will ever love them like I do, so why wouldn't I do everything in my power to show them that love and attention that I can?

So someone tell me. Where's the balance?  Cause I have no idea.