Updated: May 26, 2018
Originally Published: Oct. 30, 2014
On the days that shine brightest, I creatively fend off imaginary Monsters. I manage to convince my little ones that our home is coated with magical Monster-proof paint, or that the Monster is just a tiny creature prancing about in a tutu and singing “Puff the Magic Dragon.”
But on the more challenging days, I find myself overwhelmed with frustration when my child makes yet another trip upstairs. “Just go to bed already!” is often the last thing they hear from me before they finally drift off.
On the best days, everyone is well-groomed, including myself. My children smell sweet, their nails are neatly clipped, hair is combed or braided, and their faces are free of food remnants or sticky fingers.
Conversely, on the worst days, they resemble little wild animals, and the first time I catch a glimpse of myself is when I brush my teeth before bed. I can’t help but feel a bit startled by my own reflection.
On the good days, I engage with them, looking into their eyes as they share their thoughts. I set aside distractions, kneel down to their level, and savor the memory of their sweet voices calling out, “Mommy, look!”
Yet, on the tougher days, I find myself exclaiming, “Oh my goodness, please stop singing that song before I lose my mind!”
On the best days, I can watch my child struggle, patiently allowing them to try for the thirtieth time to wear their favorite, albeit stained, t-shirt the right way. I don’t intervene; I simply let them learn.
On the worst days, I wrestle them into the outfits I prefer, tears streaming down their faces, their blotchy cheeks contrasting sharply with their perfectly coordinated clothes.
On the bright days, I become the curator of their memories, the one who will remind them about the time they couldn’t sit still at the dinner table at age seven or the hilarious incident when, at two years old, they looked down after using the potty and exclaimed, “Holy Cow!”
On the challenging days, I find myself rushing around, repeatedly saying “Hurry up!” and missing those precious moments as I focus on my to-do list.
On the best days, I choose to overlook the mess—the clothes scattered around, the dishes piled high, and the never-ending bills. I suggest, “How about we go for a walk outside?” and their excitement reminds me of the joys I sometimes overlook.
On the worst days, I let life’s stress get to me, often slipping into that stern “mom voice” that I didn’t even realize I possessed.
When the inevitable homework struggles arise on the good days, I pause, set aside the assignments, and offer a comforting hug because sometimes, that’s what really matters.
On the flip side, on the more stressful days, I find myself rambling about homework until I confuse even myself, reinforcing why I could never take on homeschooling.
On the best days, I take a hefty dose of “Chill Out” and truly relax, realizing that life isn’t usually as serious as it feels.
However, on the worst days, I try to control everything but ultimately fail, leading to feelings of frustration and “Ugh, why?”
On the good days, I sit down and read with them, enjoying story after story until they’re ready to stop. I love seeing their hopeful expressions as they ask, “Can we read just one more?”
But on the harder days, I feel like I can’t find a single moment to spare for reading.
On the best days, I think, “Please remember this,” cherishing every moment.
On the worst days, I find myself wishing they would forget.
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Summary:
Parenting is a rollercoaster of joyful moments and challenging days. The highs include magical stories, cherished memories, and quality bonding time, while the lows consist of frustration, chaos, and the inevitable struggles that come with raising children. Embracing both the good and the bad is part of the journey, and it’s essential to focus on the unforgettable moments that shape our family’s story.