I am trying to find the good in today.
I'm trying. Very very hard.
But today ended with my son telling me "I'm so sorry you yelled at me Mommy" while he sat on the potty.
So yeah... trying. Very hard.
My daughter broke one of my favorite necklaces. Handmade paper beads strewn all over the kitchen floor. The moment hubby got home. I jumped up and down, stomped my feet, and yelled that I was done.
Not my most shining moment.
Yesterday Kristen posted about the long days and magical moments of parenting. She asked in her post how we can stay present, grounded in the now. I commented that when I need to get kicked into gear I tell myself that my children did not ask to be born. We made a conscious decision to have them. To turn our love into something more. To give life to our love, and create something so much bigger than us.
That being said, I told myself no less than a thousand times today that I chose to have these children.
And it didn't help.
What does help is looking back.
The following photos were taken by my talented mother {who I wish I could link to, because it just dawned on me that she needs her own blog} If my memory serves, it was my first outing after Paige was born, and she was probably about a week old. I remember how my legs {and other areas I will not mention... .} ached with recovery. How everything seemed possible because we took the kids to the park for a the afternoon. Even with a spit up incident on our way out the door {now it's all coming back... } I was frustrated, overwhelmed with the sudden reality of having two, and possibly yelled a bit as I ran back into the apartment to clean myself and change the baby into a new outfit... all while keeping in mind that we had so many minutes before the baby needed to nurse yet again.
I remember how it seemed so impossible to get out the door, but how rewarding the sunshine and fresh air felt. How Paige felt so small, and Fynn felt so big, and how much I wanted to cry because nothing fit me and nothing felt right and why couldn't everything just be perfect?
It's not perfect. It wasn't meant to be that way. We're not. I'm {most certainly} not.
And that helps.
Today was one of those days. Of which I'm sure there will be many. And with each one that comes, I'll look at the previous one, get a little teary, and wonder why the day seemed so impossible when it was, in fact, filled with picture perfect moments.
{on this one, notice the finger pointing to get down off whatever he was on at the moment... ahh memories!}
