Most days, I am one of two extremes: thriving or surviving.
Days like Monday, when I’m super woman, I feel like I’m on top of the world. I give myself a solid pat on the back because I’m creating a human, taking care of my little human, tending to my home and husband well, cooking pretty delicious dinners and loving my career. But days like yesterday, I felt totally defeated.
My son decided to scream at me most of the day. How dare I tell him not to eat the crayons?! Who do I think I am wiping his snotty nose?! Why would I even suggest we play with blocks?! Apparently, nothing I made him to eat was edible. He also decided naps were for the weak. Meanwhile, my daughter discovered new ways to flip and stretch. In the middle of negotiations with my screaming boy, I would suddenly find myself stiff or she’d knock that spot in my lower back that made me just plain stuck in whatever position she kicked me in. I was walking, bending, sitting, stretching and laying in all sorts of positions to shift her while my toddler found his way to my face with lungs ready to rip. Oh, and the icing on the cake? I found two cracked tiles in our kitchen floor, which seemed to adequately represent my sanity.
I finally hit a physical, mental and emotional breaking point. I tearfully put my shrieking son in his crib and announced to my husband, “I’M. TAKING. A. BATH.” I think I even said, “How am I going to bring another one of him into the world and not go crazy?” Sweet husband, being the realist, reminded me that we are crazy, and told me to go soak in the tub for awhile.
Raising a one year old is hard. Being pregnant is hard. Combine the two, and life can be just plain maddening. Add high anxiety to the mix, and I’m lucky to still have my hair. I’ve been singing “Hills and Valleys” in my head for going on 36 hours now. I’m so glad God’s in control of the big stuff, but sometimes the little things (and people) I’m responsible for feel mountainous. Thankfully, the creator of the universe is just a whisper away. He’s ready to listen and He’s ready to speak. I spent the rest of the night in bed, reading and praying over my son, my husband, my daughter and my sanity.
Today I woke up and God had indeed brought a new day. My son slept for two hours this afternoon (which means I did, too) and we’ve actually ENJOYED one another’s company. My daughter has been busy practicing her kicks and flips but today, I can actually enjoy them again. The little miracle growing in my belly feels like a miracle again.
Thank God for my husband who took over parenting last night. Thank God for His hand in helping my son find his joy again today. Thank you, God, for the new day you give us with every sunrise.