my husband forwarded me this link today, with a note about how badly he needed this today: to parents of small children, let me be the one to say this aloud.
and it got me to thinking, so often this blog is so celebratory of the amazingness of raising a little person -- and well it should be, it's an amazing process -- but i do tend to glaze over the less beautiful spots.
like last night, when my too-tired husband and my too-tired self bickered at each other because john was being very difficult and not listening and not wanting any of the things we knew, as parents, he had to do -- things like dinner, and pottying, and going to bed.
or like monday morning, when john started crying when he woke up and didn't stop for an hour. yeah, i probably mentioned that. but i didn't talk about how i was at my wit's end, trying to put on my makeup while he screamed (literally screamed) in the bathroom next to me. how i had tried spanking, time out, sweet talk, strong talk, shutting him in his room, depriving him of privileges, everything i could think of to rein him in ... to no avail. how i felt like a failure when he shrieked and walked into the other room to throw himself on the floor and shriek some more.
or like every single night of my life, when i look around me at the utterly disastrous state of my house and think, if i were a better woman, a better wife, a better mother, my house would be in better shape. and like how my husband is saying the same things about himself. (ok, not exactly the same - he thinks "a better man, a better husband, a better dad!")
or like every evening around 7:30pm, i think ... just a half an hour and the house will be quiet. just a half an hour to bedtime.
i'm not being all woe-is-me here, i promise. i'm just thinking that some days, i should set my super-mom ego aside and acknowledge aloud that i'm not super-mom at all. that i fail at some part of my life every single day. that it's NOT all sunshine and roses.
and you know what? that's ok. sunshine and roses or rainstorms and thorns, i'm so grateful for my life -- for my family, for my job, for our home, for the food we eat -- because it's beautiful.
bruised, battered, tired, sore, sometimes angry, sometimes sad ...
but beautiful.
and it got me to thinking, so often this blog is so celebratory of the amazingness of raising a little person -- and well it should be, it's an amazing process -- but i do tend to glaze over the less beautiful spots.
like last night, when my too-tired husband and my too-tired self bickered at each other because john was being very difficult and not listening and not wanting any of the things we knew, as parents, he had to do -- things like dinner, and pottying, and going to bed.
or like monday morning, when john started crying when he woke up and didn't stop for an hour. yeah, i probably mentioned that. but i didn't talk about how i was at my wit's end, trying to put on my makeup while he screamed (literally screamed) in the bathroom next to me. how i had tried spanking, time out, sweet talk, strong talk, shutting him in his room, depriving him of privileges, everything i could think of to rein him in ... to no avail. how i felt like a failure when he shrieked and walked into the other room to throw himself on the floor and shriek some more.
or like every single night of my life, when i look around me at the utterly disastrous state of my house and think, if i were a better woman, a better wife, a better mother, my house would be in better shape. and like how my husband is saying the same things about himself. (ok, not exactly the same - he thinks "a better man, a better husband, a better dad!")
or like every evening around 7:30pm, i think ... just a half an hour and the house will be quiet. just a half an hour to bedtime.
i'm not being all woe-is-me here, i promise. i'm just thinking that some days, i should set my super-mom ego aside and acknowledge aloud that i'm not super-mom at all. that i fail at some part of my life every single day. that it's NOT all sunshine and roses.
and you know what? that's ok. sunshine and roses or rainstorms and thorns, i'm so grateful for my life -- for my family, for my job, for our home, for the food we eat -- because it's beautiful.
bruised, battered, tired, sore, sometimes angry, sometimes sad ...
but beautiful.
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