The days are long ..

There’s a saying i got on a coffee mug from a toy subscription you may be familiar with – Lovevery.

It said;

The days are long but the years are short.

Lovevery mug

And any parent can tell you that this statement couldn’t be truer.

But right now, in this moment, at 9:44 pm, as I sit in the bathtub with racing thoughts and emotions after my toddlers physically and emotionally assaulted me and my fiance for the last 3 hours- all that is stuck in my head is- the days are long.

And in about 30 minutes when I go back to my bed my Google photos will show me memories “2 years ago today” of my sweet chubby innocent babies and I’ll sob like a baby myself. I’ll sob because I lost my patience with those same innocent babies tonight, because I’m grieving those days that I honestly don’t fully remember because of sleep deprivation and other stresses. I’ll sob because I know how short the years are and yet in the moments of challenging authority, playing when they are supposed to be sleeping, destruction caused by curiosity – all I feel is rage, and numbing stress. I know that I’ll look back on these days and miss them too and I damn myself for not being able to “in the moment”.

Although I do think that’s the biggest fucking hypocrisy I’ve ever witnessed and experienced in my life. The message that we need to “cherish” these days. To be “present” with our children who test our every inch of patience and self development we’ve ever practiced. Because my god- it is so damn hard sometimes.

And my God, I love them so much. My heart wants to explode out my chest just at the thought of how much I love them. And, if I’m being completely and utterly honest, sometimes I loathe these days.

I loathe not knowing if I’m doing right by them, not knowing how to react to them. I loathe how irritated and frustrated I get with them. I loathe how restless, impatient, and never ending their demands can be. How impatient I can be with them. How impatient Keith and I are with each other as a result. How stressed I get about everything else in my life and on my to do list.

But I also fucking love these days. I love their curiosity and their questions. I love when they mispronounce big words or surprisingly pronounce them correct. I love the look of wonder in their eyes when they learn about something new. I love asking them how their day was and them actually telling me what they did, and their friends name, and what they learned. I love naming every single type of truck on the way school and pointing out every single red car. I love spraying them with the hose and watching them run away and scream laugh. I love teaching them how to water our garden and dig in the mud. I love when they look at me and say “I love you mama”.

Parenting envokes every single emotion I’ve ever had and then some. Every. Single. Day. It tests every wound i thought i “healed” and every negative reaction i thought i surpassed. it challenges me every single day to be better. And not for me, for them. And I’m trying my damn best. And some days my best isn’t really all that good but I still promise to wake up everyday and try again.