I don't typically post on Saturdays, but my boot camp has me on a crazy sleeping schedule. So here I am, up in the dark, rain pouring down, and filled with contemplation.
Yesterday, I wrote about how I don't fixate on my children's passing phases.
That was a tough post for me to write. One in which I couldn't seem to match my words with my actual thoughts... if that makes any sense. And, like I said, when it comes to the kids, I'm pretty cautious in what- and how- I share.
Since I'm up [@ the crack of dawn], I'd like to give it another go.
The truth is, I've shed countless 'parental tears'... tears over what I miss, what I did wrong, what I'm doing wrong, what I love, what I hate. I worry to no end. Some days, I feel like a total failure, lying awake at night, uselessly recounting each and every mistake. Other days, I am super mom, flying through the day with just the right amount of kisses, advice, encouragement, consequences, rewards... the perfect proportion of vegetables and treats... of t.v. time, and reading time... of love, and tough love.
And this ride with Jacob has not been an easy one. As he's gotten older, it's got easier in some ways, and tougher in others. Of course, there are days I miss that age when he didn't have opinions (boy, that was a short window of time), or the days that we'd cuddle up on the sofa, and watch Little Bill, or get lost in a picture book together, or when I'd get bombarded with kisses... and knock-knock jokes. And days when I fret about losing him... losing him to video games, to friends, to girls (oh, I am so not ready for that). The daily question rears it's ugly head. Did I do enough?? Am I doing enough??
But then I remind myself that perfection has no place in parenting, and "for life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday." -Kahlil Gibran
And today is a new day. A day of a 13 year old mastermind, and a 7 year old fashionista.