I can't believe it's been a month since I've written anything. I won't lie... being in a new city with a two-year-old.... well, sometimes the days are long. But looking back, I can't believe how fast time has gone by.
When Hannah wants to walk by herself (i.e. get out of the stroller or be put down), she exclaims, "Walk! My toes!!!"
She has started making up her own songs about what she sees or how she feels. My favorite song is the one she sings the most: "Daddy, my daddy helps! Mommy, my daddy helps! Daddy, my mommy helps!" It is the cutest little song. And then there's this little ditty: "Happppppyyyy, goooooo! Mommy happy! AnnaMae happppppy! Happpppppyyyyyy, goooooo!"
There are a few things that I'm really really looking forward to sharing with the whole wide world, but I will have to wait still a little longer.
Lately, one of my favorite verses has been resonating in my head when I'm feeling overwhelmed.
"I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth." Psalm 121:1-2
HM and I recently went to the beach with my family. We had such a good time. She absolutely looooooooooooooooved the ocean. The waves knocked her all about, even making her fall head first into the water, but she got up laughing and running back into the water. She was fearless, and could have stayed there in the water all day. As for me, the ocean always has a calming effect on me, and this year was no different.
Parenting a two-year-old is hard. Not for the faint of heart. But I know there is something harder, and that thought weighs heavy on my mind in the difficult moments throughout the day when HM is screaming about another tortilla chip or how she wants mommy to help (change her diaper, wash her hands, get her a cup, etc). I think about all the moments, hours, days, weeks and YEARS I desperately wanted to have a hard day parenting my child, because that meant that I had my child with me. Now that I do have a child here, and I am finally not separated from one of my babies, I realize that we all have moments when we want to hide in the bathroom or pretend we don't hear them screaming and rolling around on the floor. And in those moments, I wish I could say that I don't have guilt or anger or sadness for how I respond.
The truth is, I do. I put a lot of pressure on myself not to have those normal feelings of motherhood. Because I waited so long to have a child in my arms. Because I have three babies that I can't hold. Because I know how quickly things could have gone the other way at her birth. Because I see heartbreak and sorrow and separation all around me, and don't we know how good we have it?????
But sometimes I hide in the bathroom for just one minute more. Sometimes I look away when she's rolling around on the floor for the fifth time in an hour instead of intentionally parenting her through the tantrum. Sometimes I sneak away to the bedroom when daddy gets home from work so I can recharge for the evening routine.
And I feel so guilty about it.
Parenting a living child is hard. But I wouldn't have it any other way.