I always wanted a lot of children, like drive-an-extended-van amount of children.
But I’ve also always wanted to give each of my children my time, to make sure they know I know them and have five seconds to fix their train track or look at their math quiz or shove Barbie’s feet into the most impractical shoes of all time.
Some days I’m all “Wow, I’ve got this. My back doesn’t hurt from carrying someone for the last five hours, I remember the quadratic equation and we’re all using glitter!” and some days (yesterday to be exact) I’m all “I can’t see the teen playing soccer, he’s heading down a slide of mud, he’s throwing rocks and oh.my.heart. she just fell backwards off of that ladder.”
My head echoed with thoughts of failure, a stubborn refusal for help and a question of how in the world I was actually entrusted with all these people.
I want to do and be it all for everyone but I just can’t seem to perfect the cloning process so I’m trying to make a truce with what I’ve got.
Today was a gorgeous Indian summer kind of day and Parker wanted to show me something right now mom. right now.
I picked up his five year-old self because I still can and he blew at a dandelion. He wished to go to the park with just me. My heart was sinking in failure but he picked it up, squeezed his eyes closed and said “like we are right now.”
Ten feet away from the craziness that is everyone else, hanging out by our far-cry-from-a-park backyard, my son decided what I had to give was enough.
Maybe he can teach me how to do the same.
Do you struggle with being everything to everyone or are you realistic with yourself about what you can/can’t do?
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