Yesterday was one of those not-so-stellar days of parenting. We were stuck inside because of rain and everyone was whining and fighting and by noon I had put in the “if I don’t get a break soon I’m running away from home” call to Mark.
In hopes of saving my sanity I packed the kids up and took them to an indoor play place (I know sanity and indoor play place, not usually in the same sentence).
While changing the kids into their 80 millionth dress up outfit in walked identical twin girls about the same age as my kids.
My attempt to ignore the ache in my heart telling me I should have two girls, dressed in match clothes, finishing each others’ sentences as they ran for the princess dresses failed.
Parker was a magnet for these girls, he started playing with them instantly. Before I could pull Sawyer down from his latest adventure,
I turned to find Parker sandwiched between his new friends going down the slide.
A picture of what my life should be.
And just incase my heart hadn’t completely broken in half, I heard my sweet boy tell his sister that he couldn’t play with her because he “liked playing with two girls instead of just one.”
So I did what any barely sane, grieving mom would do. I forgot about my frustrations of the morning, watched my kids play through blurry eyes then kissed their little cheeks like crazy and told them I loved them one thousand times as I loaded them up to go home.
And when we got home?
I put my phone away and made the best construction worker/bakery they had ever seen.
Because life is short.
It’s way too short.
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