This morning I hugged Charlie and said good-bye and let my gaze rest on him as he climbed onto the bus to go to school. I watched him take his seat and turn toward the window for one last wave good-bye as is our routine each morning. As I watched the bus pull away I turned to walk back into the house where Chanelle and Meadow were waiting and already a blog post was forming in my over-worked brain.
It was going to be a beautiful post. A post about the gift of parenthood and the fleeting moments with children. I knew I would cry while writing it, thinking of how quickly these years are going and how precious these moments with my kids really are. I would talk about their sweet smiles and their quirky ways and I would hold on tight to today, because really, today is all we have. Right?
But then, Meadow screamed. And then she fell and screamed again. And then she resisted eating breakfast. And then Chanelle asked her 458th question. And then she asked her 765th question. And then Meadow resisted eating lunch. And then I finished washing Charlie’s laundry only to find that he never put his dirty baseball uniform in his laundry basket and his game was in an hour. And then I went upstairs to find that most of Chanelle’s clothes had “fallen” off their hangers. And then Meadow said, “Move, Mommy.” And then Meadow resisted eating dinner.
And did I mention I’ve been sick? For days?
And then I sent Chad a text that said, I am on edge.And well, to write that post about the joys of parenting and the precious gift of these little lives–while absolutely true–seems a bit disingenuous. I’ll save that one for another day, I think.
The truth is. . .parenting is hard. Sure, we I post my pretty pictures to my blogs and Facebook pages–you know the ones. . .
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Perfect pictures with happy kids and grand adventures and the message sent is–this is a piece of cake.
The truth is, a good percentage of the time parenting is like this. . .
Or this. . .
I recently talked to a Mom who has just entered her second year as “Mama”. I asked her how she adjusted to motherhood and she gave me a sideways glance and a sort of nervous smile. She admitted to me, I didn’t expect to be this tired. No one told me I would be this tired.
Amen to that, sister. Amen to that.
This week alone, Chad and/or I have had our sleep interrupted by little ones appropriately 15 times. Sometimes they tap us lightly, sometimes they whisper our names, but often times they just stare at us until we startle awake at their intense stares. (What is that about?) Sickness has been waking them up, and we’ve had some storms, oh and there was that time that Meadow lost the band-aid on her knee–each of those culminating in the need to alert Mommy and Daddy in the middle of the night.
Don’t hear me wrong. We signed up for this. I mean, we didn’t really think this would be an easy job. But really? Fifteen times in four days? Is this normal?
I’m guessing it is. I’m guessing most parents have interrupted sleep and exhaustion is just a way of life. A state of being. I had a friend in grad school–he was older and wiser. (Read: his kids were grown and out of the house.) He would preach to me often: make sure your going on dates with Chad. Make sure you are making time for vacations and get-a-ways for the the two of you.
Dates and vacations? Do parents do that? (Don’t tell me if you do.) Truth is, we learned during our Jamaica trip that a week away won’t “recover” us. There is no break-away to gear up again. It’s kind of just go-go-go and do your best to take deep breaths while your going.
I mean, literally. Step back.
Sometimes I let them walk ahead of me or I simply lag behind. Sometimes, I take a few steps away and watch them from afar. And sometimes? If we are in the house? I step into another room and a close my eyes and I hear them–I mean I really hear their tiny, innocent, joyful voices and that does something. It moves me. It gives me a little perspective.
When I step away–even a few steps–I am able to see that they are just doing what they are supposed to do–they are being kids.
It’s a beautiful thing, really. And sometimes they are cranky and exhausted and moody and sometimes I am. And that’s just the way it goes. We kind of get that. I don’t love them less because of it, and they don’t love me less for it. It’s just a part of being a family and doing life together.
I think when all is said and done what matters is that we showed up. That we were there. That we were present. However exhausted we may be, we’re doing it–we’re doing life–together. . .
I think that’s worth a lot.
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Happy Friday!
Have a lovely weekend. . .
Thank you for the reminders as I sip on my frappuccino to wake myself up from the 5 wake up calls I had last night 😉 I hope you feel better soon too!! My husband gets those texts/calls so very often!! Have a wonderful weekend Summer!
Sally, in real life, I'm pretty sure we'd be friends. However, I am so thankful that we get to be 'virtual' friends. 🙂
Thank you for normalizing. . .
since it's your blog and since you're a parent, i say you can title as infinitely many posts as humanly possible "on parenting"…it's your blog and you can title how you want to!
ok, no more hats on Chanelle! she looks like a teen. 🙂 j/k – she looks so cute, but whew, that aged her like 10 years.
we need an update on the Turtle Release (if you're taking post suggestions!)
love you and loved these pics!!
Miss
How much do I appreciate you? More than words. That's how much.
And now, I'm thinking about two long haired guys singing "More than words" while playing their guitars. Was it Extreme who sang that?
Love you Miss!