A friend of mine is in the thick of parenting struggle, with sick kiddos, and a full-time job, and the stress of simply being a working mom in the 21st century. It’s hard. It’s really hard. And I know that it won’t be this particular hard forever. Because time is a funny thing, and with it comes new trials and tribulations for lack of a better cliche.
Last summer I wrote about being sick of breastfeeding. It was 18 months in and I.WAS.DONE. Sadly, Potamus was decidedly NOT done, and so we kept going. And yesterday I was reflecting on how easy it was to wean, and how long it seems since I hunkered down to nurse him to sleep. In fact, what feels like forever, has only been 2 months. Whoa. Time, you’re a tricky thing. And even this week, as I was bitching that I was still the only one to get Potamus to sleep at night, he fell asleep for Boof no problem. AND my picky eater at 2 slices of pizza for dinner, instead of his usual yogurt. Wow.
I happen to be a very in-the-moment feeler. I feel things intensely, and when they’re good they’re GOOD, and when they’re bad they’re everlasting. Eight minutes of screaming in the car on our morning commute feels like an eternity, whereas an extra eight minutes of uninterrupted sleep feels like nothing. I don’t know how to reconcile all of that, especially when it’s hard, but it’s nice to keep in mind, that things change quickly (and I mean quickly by lifetime standards, not moment-to-moment standards).
boof & monk-monk 