More

I am the doer and the wanter of more.  More, more, more.  This is perhaps a symptom of my generation.  I feel insatiable.
Last year I read fifty books; this year I'll read one hundred.  This year I ran a half-marathon; next year I'm running a full marathon.
More books, more reading; more running, more training, more exercise.  Longer, harder, faster.  More stories, more knowledge; more muscles, more fit, more unstoppable.

The world tugs at my shirt sleeve, begging me to see more of it.  More travel, more experiences, more planning.  I'd like to see more countries.  I'd like to see them all.
My want of 'time' is in direct conflict with my want to 'do more'.  I want to be home with my kids.  I want to earn an income.  I want to be a writer.  I want to be a student.  I want to run my own business.  I want to travel.  I want to volunteer.  I want to exercise.  I want time to myself.  I want time with my husband, and time as a family.  Time to go on hikes and play with my dog.  I want to stay sane.

It's bad enough that I'm addicted to more; but I encourage 'more' of those around me too.  To my friends, it's, "Yes, buy that sweater, join that class, have more babies!  Go for that sixth child!"  To my husband, it's "Yes, make more money, go for that job promotion - who cares if we never see you?" (This one isn't true.  I'd rather more Dan than more money any day, but that's still 'more' isn't it?)  To my children, it's sleep more (that one is legit).  More is what's most important.  Except, it's not.  It shouldn't always be.

The holiday season begets more.  At Halloween, it's more decorations, more costumes, more candy.  At Christmas, it's all of the above in addition to more parties, more presents, more giving.

In parenting, 'more' is not an option.  Children demand more.  More of your time, more attention, more love.  They need caring for that involves more cooking, more cleaning, more organizing, more driving.
The first word I taught each of my babies to sign was "more".  More food, more drink, more play, more mommy, more, more, more!
Until I have no more left in me.  Then I want less.  Less stress, less worry, less pressure.  Less to do.  Less.  Less is more.