In a Facebook group, a group of mamas were discussing the fact that we often find ourselves fighting back tears when we look at baby pictures of our children, wondering where the months and the years have gone.
I present to you, the before:
And now, the after shots:
Yup, I have shed more than a few tears over these two darlings.
And that is what makes evenings like tonight even worse. Because, no matter how much I love them, there are some days and nights where the screaming is too much and too constant, the temper tantrums are too loud and too long, the demands are too frequent and too insane, and I’m left wondering what hell-bent demon has possessed my children, and whether I’ll ever be able to poop in peace again without having tampons thrown at me by human beings under four feet tall.
Some days, I want to quit, run away, and honestly, I feel like I am simply going to fall apart and lose the last of the fraying strings that are holding me together.
It’s a rough feeling as a mother, balancing the aching love you have for your children, as well as the moments where you simply want to flee and head for the hills. It’s enough to make you feel like the worst parent imaginable–you feel like everyone has it together more than you, and that you must be the only mother who has ever wanted to get away from it all for a while.
We survive. We manage. We get teary eyed looking at the baby pictures again a couple hours later. But, I find myself still feeling guilty for losing my cool, becoming frustrated and lost.
I have to remind myself of something I read online about parenthood–Of course we’re going to lose our sh*t when it comes to our kids every now and again. After all, if an adult pulled the same crap with us that our kids pull, they’d be in prison in a heartbeat.
And we put up with it out of our children, and we love them immensely anyway.