Mornings are hard at our house.
I am chaotic. Finnegan is stalling. Tate is into everything.
Is lunch made? Has Monty been fed? Wait… where is your library book? You have gym today, you need sneaks! Tate! Get out of the dog water right now!
I try, often failing miserably, to keep the rushed craziness to a minimum. I try to bite my tongue instead of yelling. Do you know why?
Because every single morning, I drop Finn off to school I give him a hug and tell him to have a good day.
It started when school did, but since Newtown, I have been vigilant about it. Some days the hug is begrudgingly rushed. Some days it feels forced. Some of those particularly bad mornings, I don’t want to do it at all. But, I do.
Life happens like that, there are good and bad days for everyone.
We don’t always like our children and our children don’t always like us. And it’s really ok.
The days though that we’ve kept the crazy to a minimum and he is happy to run into school? Those are the days that I feel like I’m winning this motherhood thing. The hug is boisterous and held for just a few seconds longer. Just a smidge tighter. I yell out the car window, “LEARN something cool!” and he has a huge smile on his face and yells OK over his shoulder.
Those days I feel like I’m doing something right.
I know it isn’t every day. I’m not perfect by any means, but it’s just enough to make me feel like maybe we’re on the right track. Lord knows that there are enough reminders around to make me feel like we’re the worst parents ever.
What makes you feel like you’re winning this whole parenthood thing?