Motherhood is like a game of ping pong on a table that sometimes changes into a plate of French fries or a thermometer or a bad report card, and you aren’t always supposed to hit the ball (sometimes you are supposed to ignore it or paint it purple or sing it a song but no one tells you that in advance). Still, you are expected to adapt to the changing landscape and demands with skill, grace and patience.
I say that partly because the topics change so rapidly and so randomly.
One minute I am asked to define the word “poverty,” to which my girls respond with appropriate solemnity. The next minute – I mean the very next – I am invited to watch their shoulder buddies dance with each other.
Or maybe it’s because their behavior is unpredictable. One morning ejecting them from their beds involves a song, a dance, a bit of tickling, some begging and eventually, the mad mommy voice. The next day, typically a day I’ve risen early to get a head start on work, they wake to the sound of my eyelids opening.
Then again the emotional demands can be dizzying. The cold shoulder in the afternoon (as punishment for an unspecified maternal crime) is followed immediately and without transition by entreaties to “snuggle for just a few minutes longer” in the evening.
What is my point? Motherhood is hard. Even with healthy, loving, joyful kids (which is the kind I am blessed with).
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know no one said it would be easy. And I never said I wouldn’t whine about it.
Shoulder Buddy - http://shoulderbuddies.com/
Why do they want dinner eCard - http://static.someecards.com/someecards/usercards/1329851648404_327005.png