Not every day is easy.
Today was one of those “hard days.”
I woke up extra tired…run down…low on energy. I thought maybe I was getting sick, but then remembered that sometimes being pregnant is equivalent to always feeling on the verge of being sick…or hungover. And some days are more blah than others.
It didn’t help that it was a cloudy, dreary day. It was Monday. And the little one (#1) got to bed too late and woke up too early which = a cranky, overly emotionally fragile child that broke down more as the day went on.
Luckily hubby knew I might need a break and suggested a trip to McDonald’s for lunch. The french fries helped to get us through.
This came after a really awesome few days last week. AJH had very few tantrums (we’re in that very sensitive, two-year-old phase), she played on her own without being too needy, and I felt like I was actually doing some things right with parenting, which has been kind of few and far between lately. My days at home were scarily smooth.
And then today came and I felt like we were back to square one.
It was a long day.
It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows.
It was a lot of tears and, “Mommy, hold youuuuuu” (which I interpret as, “Mommy, hold meeeeeee”).
It was finding mouse poop in the cabinet.
It was taking way too many hours to
let a two-year old wash a mountain of dirty, mouse-poopy dishes while getting water everywhere.
It was throwing tupperware lids that didn’t fit
And baby doll high chairs that just didn’t work the exact way she wanted them to.
But amidst the mouse poop, I also found some good bits.
I found patience.
I found my ability to scoop up, and do a lap-plop while wiping away tears and giving reassurance.
To teach deep breaths, and counting, and “calm-down” time over. and over. and over.
Five years ago, I don’t think I would’ve found this girl inside of me.
Five years ago I was the girl throwing the tupperware.
Somehow motherhood has the ability to surface those parts of us we thought would never come out of hiding.
And it feels good.
Almost as good as finally laying on the couch at the end of a day like today, looking down with tears in your eyes and feeling little one (#2) give a few reassuring kicks, as if to say, “It’s okay mama, hang in there!”
It just doesn’t get much better than that.