Hard

Today was just hard.  Sometimes the waves of parenting are unrelenting.  They crash and slam against the rocky ledges you spent years shoring up to ensure your own survival.  I can't count the number of times today I cringed at the sounds of my own voice.  The nagging in it, the pitch, the frantic crisis of missing diddys and bubbas.  The curt threatening of beloved toys being snatched from you for the littlest of infractions.  The exhaustion of it.  The honest exhaustion of it.  The exhaustion.

Your daddy works hard my loves.  He works honest, hard, long days.  Sometimes I admire them and sometimes I resent them.  There are even times I envy them.  56 renditions into 'Tomorrow' (The theme song of the musical Annie and your first true obsession Harps) and I am begging for a nap to overcome you so I can drift into some desperate solitude.  Sometimes loves, it is hard to untangle the sound of my own voice from the chaos of loving and caring for you.

I rushed you to your tub tonight.  I remember a woman once telling me when you have a crab to put it in water and I look forward to the calm that comes from your tubs.   Tonight it didn't work.  An hour later and we were still a mess of little bodies struggling to find rest, your mama running the next day's routines over and over in my head.  It doesn't always need to work loves. and you don't need to always have answers.  Sometimes a good bath and a little contemplation is just that.