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Days Like Today
Oct. 20, 2015
There are moments when the exit beckons. Kids sprawled on the floor, throwing fits—it’s so tempting to just slip out, hop in the car, and drive away. Away from the spilled juice cups. Away from the endless cycle of tidying up the same mess day after day. Away from the tears, the yelling, and the constant refusal to take a nap.
The urge to escape is palpable. I can almost picture an empty beach on a sunny day, with chilled drinks in hand and the soothing sound of waves crashing on the shore. The salty air fills my lungs with every calming breath. A moment of solitude, a respite from kids bickering over toys and invading my personal space. Just peace and quiet.
But of course, that moment isn’t going to happen. The path to freedom is strewn with Legos and remnants of a lunch that took forever to prepare but was devoured in mere seconds. The door is blocked, and the wails of children yank me back to reality.
It wasn’t always like this. I remember when my little ones were infants, and parenting seemed so straightforward. I was convinced that my kids would be perfect angels—clean plates, neatly put away toys, and crafts so impressive that IKEA would want to feature them in their catalog.
The truth is, parenting only gets tougher. Days pass with my hair in a messy bun, while the only bags that show up under my eyes are the ones from sleepless nights. If those eyes don’t stay open, and the body they belong to doesn’t keep moving, the house becomes a disaster zone. Piles of laundry become hills of chaos, and Cheerios create dust storms across sticky surfaces, merging with lakes of spilled juice.
The door looks inviting. If it weren’t for the little shoes strewn in the way, I might consider a getaway. Just the thought of water washing away the stress of being a “hands-on” parent is so appealing. Warm sand beneath my feet sounds a lot better than tiptoeing around the mess in a house that desperately needs cleaning.
This is the third time this week that nap time has been utterly disregarded. Parents don’t get naps; they get to do dishes and clean up messes as quietly as they can while children recharge for more chaos.
When the line between being a good parent and hitting a mental wall starts to blur, the door looks like a sweet escape. One more scream might just push me over the edge into that beach fantasy.
And then, just like that, the clouds part. A lull in the storm brings a gentle reminder of why I’ve never actually made it to that beach.
A smile.
A kiss.
An “I love you.”
It softens my desire to run away. Even the toughest days can be brightened by a cozy cuddle under a toddler-sized blanket that barely covers either of us. In that moment, everything feels okay. Tiny hands, somehow capable of causing so much chaos, grip onto the only constant in their lives. Time stands still, and love swells, reminding me that leaving isn’t an option.
The beach still calls, but in its serene beauty, something vital would be missing: the pure joy that comes from those tender moments shared between parent and child.
So, the door remains shut, the car stays parked in the driveway, and the bags under my eyes stay packed. It’s tough. Some days seem nearly impossible. While the thought of a quiet beach sounds tempting, love has a way of reminding me why I choose to stay.
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Summary:
On days when the chaos of parenting feels overwhelming, the thought of escaping to a peaceful beach can be tempting. However, the simple joys of a smile, a kiss, and an “I love you” remind us of the love that makes the mess worth it. Even when it seems impossible, those special moments with our children make staying home the right choice.