Parenting is hard.

Sometimes you have to be a wall of love and grace and firm boundaries while the fury and the flood of their raw emotions rages against you until it spends itself and falls into you, needing arms soft and warm and full of acceptance.

Sometimes you need to hide alone in the bathroom, door locked, fan on, just to breathe for five seconds and clear your head and decide what to do about the issue du jour.

Sometimes you need to play. Just play. Laugh, dance in the kitchen, show off your killer 90’s moves to their deep delight or chagrin, depending on the day.

Sometimes you have to give and give and give and give and give until you are drained to the dregs. And then give a little more, always at a cost to yourself. Self-care is a far-off dream in these seasons. Showers are about as much as you can manage.

Sometimes you take the easy way out, for the protection of your own sanity, and you feel guilty for it, even though you know that what’s easiest for you is usually what’s best for your family. It makes room for you do the Hard Things when they come.

Sometimes you have no idea what you are doing, and you hope your child can afford the therapy they are sure to need because of your parenting.

Sometimes you see other parents and wish your life was that easy, or you are glad that isn’t your kid. Either way, you are probably wrong, and you know it. So you mentally fist bump them, and deal with the kid in front of you, who is probably making that other parent grateful he’s not their kid.

Parenting is hard you guys.

Every. Day.

Just keep swimming. You’re going to make it. And it’s worth it.

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