Moose and I had one of "those" days on Friday. A screaming-shrieking-toddler-in-the-middle-of-Target day. And again on Saturday. A walk-out-of-a-birthday-party-early day.
About the time the parenting self-doubt was really sinking in, Sunday dawned, and I scooped up Moose and took him to the park. Half peace offering (because my tone and volume and words weren't as nice as they could have been on Friday and Saturday). Half selfish repose (because there is much less to worry about when it's him, a slide, and some dirt; so he licked a rock, so what).
And it dawned on me that kids are not unlike the sun. Yes, we rise when they rise (whether we really want to or not). But more than that: they're constantly, constantly moving. Shifting. Sometimes imperceptibly, and we ease along with them. Sometimes more dramatically, and we're caught outside in the blistering heat with no sunblock.
And that makes our jobs (as parents) hard. Really hard.
Sometimes we want solutions, and sometimes we just need to sit on a swing, and watch the shadow shift, and delete (or at least ignore) all the blog posts of other mommies' awesomeness delivered to the inbox.
And remember that all of it - the bad and the good - is moving like the sun, and for better or worse is only here for now.
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