My husband sent me this text in response to me sending him one about the kiddos. He gets me. I needed to read that. I needed the simplicity of, “we are lucky.” Because we are. We are so completely and utterly lucky to have the children we have and the support we have from each other.
I sometimes get caught up in how hectic our life is (actually, it’s far more than sometimes). Like today:
CAB stomps his feet and yells at me, OKB whines over why he can’t wear yet another halloween costume, for whatever picky reason he’s giving me this time (most likely because he’s insecure about the last two costumes being too big or because his sister told him they were cute on him), and HRH, while getting her flu shot, kicks the nurse and screams so loudly that she’s heard in the waiting room of the doctor’s office (it took three of us to hold her down), and I want to pull my hair out. I want to fucking pull my hair out. Inside of my head i’m cussing and crying. I’m thinking, “why the hell did you kick the nurse and why the hell did they stop doing the nasal spray for the flu vaccine?!” Then I think, “we are lucky.”
When CAB stomps his feet and wants to be stubborn over what seems to be nothing, you still see this smile on his face that’s ready to burst into a giggle at any given moment–depending on how i choose to handle the situation. I choose to make a joke and turn it into something hilarious. OKB has no idea how to handle his insecurities and really just doesn’t know what he wants, so i talk him down and I find a cheap Storm Trooper costume and all of sudden he’s happy (3rd time’s a charm, right?). HRH has no idea how to handle her anxiety and we deal with it how it comes and move on. When i dwell on it, it shames her and nothing positive comes from that. So, i tell her it’s okay. I tell her we will work on it. I tell her that i love her. I wanted to be negative all day, but I kept screaming over my negative thoughts, “WE ARE LUCKY!” To be breathing, to have children who are healthy, to have each other to turn to.
I can easily get caught up in the negative. I overwhelm myself with questions of what could be wrong with my kids or what’s wrong with my parenting, but the honest answer is: NOTHING. Nothing is wrong with me or my kids, because we are human and shit happens. Moods happen. Life isn’t perfect. So, when they fall apart, I need to be there to hold space and let them know how lucky I am to be able to hold that space and how lucky they are to have that space to break down and let it out.
My life is full of love and I learn more love and acceptance through every rough moment I experience with the kiddos and the hubs.I am strong and I can handle the rough patches with grace and lots of internal cussing (sometimes I say fuck out loud and don’t even realize it and I accept that). Our family is messy and perfect. Our mess makes us who we are. We are damn lucky.