Parenting is fucking hard.
You know going into it that there will be highs and lows, but sometimes they smack you in the face, seemingly out of nowhere.
We’re having a little issue with Mr. A. Nothing life altering, but it’s enough that as a parent I’m faced with worry and concern. It’s going to be fine, I know it is, but it’s hard to remember that when your gut is churning.
Last night I sobbed to my husband. A weekend’s worth of anxiety sort of overflowed into a lake of tears next to my bed. I just let go of everything that’s been building up and let go I did.
It made me realize that this will only happen about 150 more times in the next 10-20 years. My heart will break over and over again as my children learn, grow, fall and try again.
Loss of friends? It’s going to happen.
First heartbreak? Gonna happen.
Failure at school, sports? Totally in our future. I can feel an anxiety attack coming on already.
We’ll handle all of it, the husband and I, hopefully mostly as a team, sometimes probably not. This journey is constantly going to throw us curve balls and we’ll just have to deal with it. I’m hoping they are relatively small ones, but you just never know what life is going to bring.
These kids own my whole heart. No matter how irritated I may be on a given day doesn’t matter when it comes down to the overwhelming amount of love I have for my children, the ones I made, created.
I just want everything to be okay and unfortunately, it’s not always going to be.
Those are the times that we hug more than normal, kiss the boo-boos and make the best of things.
But damn, it’s hard.