Some days when Wes gets home all I want to do is cry because it feels like the entire day has been an uphill battle with a toddler who will not back down, or an infant who is just being an infant. After the kids are in bed some days I do cry and tell Wes I feel like the worst mother in the world. I’ve had a post in my draft folder for a few weeks talking about how hard being a parent is (and it is, and one day I’ll finish and post it), but for the last few days I’ve been feeling like one hell of a mama. Maybe I’m riding the high of my own mom being in town and helping out, but lately it feels like I’ve been just killing it at this parenthood gig.
Yes, the days are long (but the years are short), but there is so much fun to be had in those days and we do as much of it as possible. We are busy bees and I love every dang second of it. Who would have thought that being a parent would be my favorite job of all? Certainly not me.
Tonight while I was giving James a bath Stella closed the door and said, “Bye bye. I love you so much.” And my heart soared because this is something I say to her all the time. She may not remember all of this when she’s older, but right now she does remember this and it makes me so happy.
So before I forget to remember: I’m a damn good mama. I love these jokers so much. I know the thing among moms (and probably dads, but I don’t know because I don’t have those conversations) – and I’m guilty of this, too – is to talk about our short-comings and all the ways we fail on a daily basis and how we wish we could do xyz better. I’m trying to step away from that because it doesn’t do anyone any good. My kids don’t benefit from me feeling guilty. But they do benefit from me feeling like a kick-ass mom because then I act like one. Mamas, toot your own horns today: I rock. You rock. We all rock. The kids are alright, and so am I.