i started a post titled “the grumbles” the other day, griping about the woes of solo-parenting two demanding kiddos, but i got called away by children and motherly duties before i had a chance to finish it. it’s tucked away in my drafts folder now. when i returned to my computer the next day and i saw that draft sitting there, i smiled happily and realized that i didn’t need to finish it because, miracle of miracles, the grumbles had disappeared! grumbly wednesday was followed by a pretty darn awesome thursday, full of smiles and laughter and cooperative children. ain’t that grand?!
it seems that that’s the way it is, this life with kids. one day is up, the next is down. there will be good days and there will be great days, but there are the inevitable awful, want-to-sell-your-children-to-the-gypsies days tucked in there as well. there are plenty of days when my well of patience and laughter is full – those are the fun days, the days when i can just roll with the punches – but there are also days when i feel like a tightly stretched wire, constantly vibrating and threatening to snap. those days are not fun. those are the days when my daughter’s dawdling and insistent-yet-incompetent independence are just about too much to handle. those are the days when her constant noise and motion are a real challenge for my silence-and-stillness craving soul. but she is three; amazingly, wonderfully, delightfully three. confident and intelligent and hilarious and curious…yet moody. yes, three is definitely moody. she is a challenge, for sure, but she is awesome.
and the boy. oh, how i love the boy. he has my heart. i want to scoop him up and drink him in, devouring the chub of his thighs and the sweetness of his cheeks. he is full of laughs and motion. he crawls, he climbs, he stands, he is never still. he is six-months old. i think back to the days before we decided to have a second child and i cannot believe that i ever doubted that i could possibly have room in my heart for two kids. ::sigh::
but juggling two kids alone is tough. holding the baby (to prevent him from attempting to climb the stairs or scale the kitchen cabinets) while simultaneously tending to the girl-child who needs me to wipe her tushie/have a tea party/pour a glass of juice/fetch a snack is exhausting. wonderful, yet exhausting. my husband is an amazing, helpful father and partner but he also works long hours and has been traveling more than usual lately. i have mad respect for single parents who juggle kiddos and careers by themselves. after three days of solo-parenting i am spent.
up and down, the grumbles will come and go, and i give thanks on the days when the awesome outweighs the awful. i will continue to rely on coffee and wine to get me through, savoring every moment (because i’m supposed to) even if i have to do so through gritted teeth while counting to ten v-e-r-y, v-e-r-y slowly (because sometimes i have to).