Reflection

Every parent knows the difficulty that is termed “children.” And every parent is keenly aware of the days, weeks, and months of any number of difficulties. The lack of sleep. The not being able to accomplish anything. The less-than-stellar result of anything you do happen to accomplish, which makes you wonder why you bothered in the first place. The way life doesn’t seem to wait for you to catch up. The tripping over words. The falling asleep mid-conversation. The constant re-analyzing of what you’re doing and saying and whether it is beneficial or detrimental to the well-being and outcome of your children. The constant prayer over them and for them. The days you want to rewind and start over. The days you want to stick your head in a hole and disappear for a while just so you can breathe. The days you wish would end. The nights you wish would end.

The past few weeks in our household have been no exception. Camille is 2, so that needs no further explanation. Talya had a fussy night after a couple weeks of a weird nighttime routine, so Michael and I were awake in bed discussing her current eating and sleeping schedule at 3, 3:30, 4, and 4:45 a.m. This was after a 1 a.m. feeding. So I slept almost an hour past my alarm and was scrambling to get ready this morning. Camille was underfoot and into almost everything I was trying to do, so I was tripping over her and knocking things down as I went. I needed to shower, but didn’t have time. I had no idea what I was going to wear, so I was grabbing whatever I could think of that would be halfway decent for work and hopefully match.

As I flew around my room, exhausted and flustered, I said to Camille, but more talking to myself, “I need shoes.” Camille said, “Okay!,” ran to my closet and picked out a pair of shoes for me. Then she ran back to me and set them on the floor so I could step into them, saying, “Here you go, mommy. Here you go.”

I almost brushed her aside to dig for the pair of shoes I had in mind. I would never have picked out the shoes she did, but I paused in my tornado and tried them on. Turns out I love how they look with what I am wearing. They probably don’t even go well with the outfit, but I don’t care. The part of my heart that I was allowing to harden softened quite a bit. The simple helpfulness of my 2-year-old stopped me in my tracks. And after my morning frustrations and my a-bit-too-snippy tone of voice with Camille, all I could think was, “What would I do without my sweet little girls?”