Thank you for asking me to.
Today was a doozy.
As are many days lately, it seems. It’s this season of life we’re in. It’s really hectic. And it’s really full. Full of happiness and messiness and tantrums and crying and fun and imagination and emotions and, well—life.
We’re going to have these days here and there where I feel overwhelmed, and I know that. I’ve had the great days, where I feel like I’ve got this whole motherhood thing down. Where everything lines up and everyone listens, and I am a productivity queen. (They're not quite as frequent as I’d like, but they do exist.)
I’ve had the not-so-great days where I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing or why no one is listening to anything I say or how my email inbox just seemed to explode out of nowhere or if I’m going to have to call my husband to ask him to come home from work because I can’t deal.
I know the good days show up and the bad days sneak in, and it’s a bit of a cycle. I know that. Motherhood can be a lot. Which is okay—I get it. And usually, after a long day, I take time to do something for myself—hang out with my husband or just veg out on the couch.
But tonight? Tonight, when my 2-year-old asked me to lay with her, I needed to. I needed to stay with her. And after an exhausting week—I needed to fall asleep right there with her in her bed.
Tonight, a few days after another horrific, tragic school shooting where parents lost their precious babies, for no reason...I needed to fall asleep next to you.
Tonight, after what feels like two solid months trading sicknesses in this horrible flu season—feeling isolated and frustrated...I needed to fall asleep next to you. Tonight, after the stress of trying to catch up on work and trying to manage all of the many directions life is pulling me in...I needed to fall asleep next to you. Tonight, when worries of motherhood feel extra heavy, and the responsibility of caring for three tiny humans feels a little raw...I needed to fall asleep next to you.
Tonight, after listening to my mind race all day—remembering this, remembering that. Jotting down notes and adding things to my calendar, I needed to turn off my thoughts and...I needed to fall asleep next to you.
I could have crept out of the room once I knew you were asleep. I could have zoned out in front of a TV show or read a chapter of my book. I could have done a face mask and sat in the bath with a cup of tea.
I could have picked up the toys or cleaned up the kitchen.
I could have responded to ‘just one more’ email or checked one more item off my list.
But what I needed was to just lay with you. I needed to feel your small body curled into mine. I needed to feel your head nestle in under my chin.
I needed to feel your soft baby hair brush against my face. I needed to feel your warm breath against my cheek. I needed to watch your belly safely rise and fall. I needed to see your eyelashes flutter as you drifted off to sleep.
I needed to lay quietly, peacefully with you so I could be with you at a time where I was feeling very vulnerable. And protective. And hopeful. Hopeful that you were off dreaming of a beautiful world where all this violence and hate and hurt doesn’t exist. Where only the goodness and kindness of this world carried over to your dreams, and not the bad stuff. Hopeful that, with action and change, our world will be safer for our children.
Hopeful that, with the reminder I get from the stillness of the night and some good solid rest, that tomorrow is a new day and I have another chance at being the best parent I can be to my kiddos.
Hopeful that, with the help and support from my husband, I feel like we can do this life together. On even the most overwhelming days, we can manage the hard stuff together—as a team.
Hopeful that my kids know I am doing everything in my power to be the best mother I can be. That I’m working hard for them every single day and that I truly want to give them the world.
Today was a doozy, but it also was a reminder that we are in this together—our little family. And if I have them on my side, that is all I need in this world.