I can’t give you perfection, but I can give you all of me, without holding anything back.
I can give you my whole heart.
I can let you see me laugh and cry and everything in between.
I can admit when I’m wrong (even if it takes me awhile to realize sometimes).
I decided to take the girls school shopping today. I LOVE SHOPPING, ALL SHOPPING, so I was excited.
I may have overshot my expectations.
First things first we got Starbucks. I got a triple, and I got cookie dough cake pops for the girls. They thought they were too sweet and now I don’t even know if I’m raising them right. Don’t worry, I ate all of them because WE DO NOT WASTE IN THIS FAMILY.
I’m too damn busy.
I’m too busy making mistakes and praying my kids turn out alright anyway.
I’m too busy looking at my musty smelling laundry pile and wondering if I should fold it or light it all on fire.
I’m too busy teaching my kids good work ethics which means saying “stop playing and keep cleaning” over and over until everyone is crying.
Yesterday you asked me why your older brother always gets to choose. We were staying in a vacation rental and I’d given him the choice of beds since he’s the tallest and the most likely to be uncomfortable. “He’s always going to be older,” you said, “so he’s always going to choose.” You imitated me in a perfected ‘mom voice’; “‘Malachi gets to choose because he’s ten’; pretty soon it’s going to be, ‘Malachi gets to choose because he’s eleven;'” you laughed and I laughed, but I understood that your question was real and you felt something deeper than you let on.
I also understood that I was guilty as charged.
Sometimes I don’t see that you get lost in the shuffle between oldest and youngest. I miss it, and I’m so sorry.
I was going to be the Dr. Oz of parenting. I was going to be a guru, and then I realized that I would probably have to teach my kids to stop acting like wild raccoons at the grocery store. I don’t want to be negative but my kids are 10, 8,6, and 3. This is never going to happen for me.
You are not going to get advice from me on teaching toddlers to read, or getting your kids to stop gagging on their vegetables. I could however offer a step-by-step guide to watching them chew on the same vegetable for two hours, until you eventually give up and let them spit it out.
I am not very perfect at parenting, but I do love my kids enough to cuddle with them while they smell like pee, and I feel like that’s kind of a lot.
Yesterday we took Oaklee to her first day of Kindergarten. I had been thinking for weeks about that day. I had been thinking about her zest for life, her joy, and her silliness. I had been thinking about her incredibly pure and kind heart.
She is such a treasure, as all kids are.