sometimes days feel like weeks. they’re heavy and exhausting. they leave me feeling like i didn’t accomplish anything and i have nothing to give. i am stripped.
sometimes at the end of those days i pack the kids in the double stroller and walk about the neighborhood. asking God questions aloud. “am i doing this right?”
sometimes it rains on us and the kids are elated.
sometimes the idea of cooking dinner for my family feels monumental. like: please construct mount rushmore by yourself, without any tools, in three days monumental.
sometimes it’s enough to go to a friend’s house where you feel so at home and so welcome you don’t really mind that you’ve been white knuckling your parental duties.
sometimes all it takes is a successful trip to the mall to swing your day.
sometimes the idea of a shopping mall makes you feel nauseous.
sometimes you start each day by telling your mother you’ll call her back after you give your daughter a time out.
sometimes you have to be the mean mom who makes her daughter stay home from dance class because she’s making poor choices.
sometimes you have to be the mean mom who makes everyone leave the playground because one cannot follow the rules.
sometimes you want to disregard all the rules.
sometimes your daughter says, “you’re awesome, mom!” and it fuels you for a week.
sometimes you sneak into your kid’s room and hold their hand while they’re sleeping because life has showed you its fragility and it humbled you.
sometimes you are overwhelmed by the abundance of blessings and mercies you have.
sometimes you’re embarrassed that you would ask for more.
sometimes life presents itself as something you’ve valued as unfair and you have to figure out the justification of that which leaves you hopeful rather than envious.
sometimes you have to be real and admit the thoughts you’re not proud of to find freedom from them.
sometimes you can’t help but feel overwhelmed by the perfection granted by life’s everyday moments.
sometimes you take a morning to do a dance class via dvd with your daughter. and sometimes you like it.
sometimes all it takes to turn the day around is a hazelnut macchiato.
sometimes you make pancakes for breakfast and your toddler son pats you on the back in approval.
sometimes you buy frozen waffles because the idea of starting the day out with kitchen mess is too much.
sometimes you wish you could communicate better in person than in writing.
sometimes you look at your husband and honestly can’t believe you’re married to someone so incredibly good-looking.
sometimes the kids’ bath comes by way of the sprayground.
sometimes your daily entertainment is watching the “shows” put on by your daughter and her never-ceasing imagination. and usually you like it.
sometimes you have to remind yourself of your own words.
sometimes reflection will draw your spirit towards contentment.
sometimes you ask for help. for encouragement. and it comes. [But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:9, 10 ESV)]