I love my little one. Seriously, more than I ever imagined I could. And more than that every day. While Kyle and I both knew we loved her before she was born, she has shown us that we can love like we never imagined we could.
Even so, being a parent is hard. Which doesn't mean that I love her any less. It does mean that when Olive is in a MOOD at Target, I grit my teeth and sometimes wish that I was by myself. Slowly walking. Aisle after aisle. Dreamily. Carefully considering my purchase. Without my toddler/banshee in tow.
(By the by, on the trip I have in mind, she threw a fit because I refused to change her diaper in the middle of aisle 29, on the cool, dirty floor. I picked her up and carried her--under. my. arm. kicking. and. screaming. all. the. way.--to the bathroom for a change.)
We all know it is hard. Rewarding and wonderful, but hard. But. We rarely say it. We smile, and put on faces that make other people think we have it all together.
Not long ago, Olive and I met a few friends at our local park. One of our friends didn't stay long. She arrived, unloaded her girls, managed one while the other got into a jam, watched tears flow all around, packed up and returned home. The look on her face as she pushed her girls away in their stroller killed me. I know she made the choice that was best for her family. But. I know she was hurting, and we all missed them. She is an awesome mom.
We all want our families to work. Our children to behave well, to be clean, and to obey. To look as together as everyone else appears to be.
But, the truth is this: no one has it all together. No one. No matter how 'together' they may seem, chances are high that they just finished mopping up their own explosion of crazy. At the park. In the middle of Target. Or. In their own back yard.
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