Family · Personal

It Won’t Be Like This Forever.

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Hi! It’s Monday!

Duh.

Before I get going, I want to extend sympathy to those of you who are battling the absolute horrendous heat! I feel for you. If you want to come visit, our high this week is 76 degrees. Wacey has bunk beds.

Anyways, how was your weekend? Ours was pretttty darn good. We took the boys to the ranch rodeo in town on Saturday afternoon, and gosh ranch rodeos are one of my favorite things. I miss when Bert used to ranch rodeo all summer, hopefully next summer he can get a team together and they can enter some! Wacey spent the whole time eating, commentating, and being reallllly into the broncs, Lord help us.  Buster spent the whole time throwing things down the bleachers and trying to escape and smiling at random people. Yesterday we started slow, drove around, checked water, found a broken water line, came home, and then Bert and Wacey went out to fix it while I stayed home and did chores during Buster’s nap. It was a pretty big leak but they got it sorted and all is well in the world.

I even had time to tidy up and throw a load or two in the wash so we’re not waking up to absolute mayhem tomorrow which is so sweet. Basically, it was a great, fun, low-key weekend and ohhhh boy I needed it.

I’m in that busy, full, Groundhog Day-esque season in my mamahood journey, and it’s been hard to not feel frustrated with how little I actually accomplish some days. The boys are also at two notoriously ah…trying ages. Wacey is just shy of 3 1/2, so he knows everything, has lots of big feelings, and some of those big feelings are not-so-nice ones directed at his brother and us. Buster is almost 16 months, so he’s big and mobile and has very little sense but a lot of curiosity, and a very good idea about how to antagonize his brother.

Do not get me wrong. I have two amazing children. Even on their worst days, I still feel lucky to be their mama, and their worst days really aren’t all that bad. They’re filled with a lot of tears but a lot of laughter and sweet moments, too. But the gratitude has been a little lost in the fights and the crying and the protests and the repetition lately. My own heart has been struggling a little bit, and I really didn’t like how I was mothering, or wife-ing, or being.

So, I took a step back.

It’s still hard, guys. I still lose my cool, I still wish for more hours in the day, I still wish I had more help so I was able to chase my own dreams a little harder. But I know this is just a season, a really short one, and before too long my biggest kid is not going to be happy to sit by the pens, playing in the dirt with a stick while we work cattle. He’s not going to look up at me and my camera and say “Hi, mom mom!” He’s not going to ask me to “carry you?” or get a huge kick helping make a “butter sammich.”

So, I’m going to take more pictures, soak up more moments, and breathe a little deeper because even though it’s hard and the days feel soooooo long sometimes, in my heart and in my brain I know these days are fleeting.

You know, though: I kind of hate when people say that, because sometimes it feels like people are covering up how hard parenthood can be and are saying that it’s all fine because your kids aren’t babies forever and that their parenthood journey is always serene and beautiful and full of grace. Trite laid right on top of photoshop sandwiched between two big slices of “ha, nope!”

Let me tell you what: it’s not always fine, and most days around here involve at least one wreck. Buster has scratches on his face because I can’t get between him and Wacey fast enough, but he’s learned to retaliate by hitting Wacey square in the nose which is just peachy. We have wash that hasn’t been put up, not a single thing is hung on the walls, and 5/7 days a week I don’t change out of workout clothes because why? My temper can be short. I do my dream-chasing and working in the margins of my day, and I hate that I don’t have a better version of myself to devote to those things. I am not my best self right now, not even close, and that’s showing in my mothering and wife-ing. But, guys, it’s okay. I know this. Every day is a new day, and every day has so many fun things in between the trainwrecks, and we have plenty of Neosporin. It won’t be like this forever. There is grace in these days of raising young children (for the Bible tells me so), and it’s fine that we’re a little bit of a mess. It’s getting better. Every single day. In large part because I know that there are seasons when things feel hard and when I’m not my best self because I’m human, and even in my hardest seasons I’m still so, so lucky. I have so much gratitude, but I’m also really tired. Right? Is that a thing?

It won’t be like this forever.

Parenthood is so bittersweet.

Maybe that’s why everything in my house is so sticky.

 

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