I reached that point, where it's hours past bed time, but the kids are still running around like a group of ants whose hill has just been trampled on. That point where all I could do was simply sit and cry. So I did. I cried and I prayed, and eventually I begged my kids to listen. They didn't.
This isn't a "woe is me" kind of post. I'm not so much into them. But I did promise to tell the truth. And in the life of motherhood, parenting, the truth isn't always laced with sugar, covered in icing with a cherry on top. The truth can be miserable, defeating, and lonely.
So I reached my breaking point. After 3 days of body aches, upset stomachs, fever, coughs, runny noses, little sleep (and always with a child on a shoulder) endless laundry, constant sweeping, wiping, mopping, and catering to every little need. I reached my breaking point, and I sat and cried.
It wasn't the first time, and I know it won't be the last. But amidst the snot laced, teary pleading a light of hope. Lena came over, put her arm around me, kissed my cheek and simply said "It'll be okay Mom". (My three yr old refers to me as Mom now, another attitude laced post for another time)
And she was right. It was okay. Sometime after midnight both kids settled down and slept. One on each of my sides cuddled up close, snoring. It was beauty and blessings at it's finest. I reached a breaking point, and my innocent grown-up three year old was there to remind me that it will be okay. On the other side of a storm, you can find a rainbow.
Hey, hey.... It's Singles' Day....
5 months ago