Just life.

This morning is lazy. The kids have ridden bikes, played tea set, and played super spies with new walkie talkies from their Dad. In this moment I feel calm, content, thankful. Earlier in the week- not so much. Lots of arguing between the kids, talking back to me, and tolerating the annoying parts of caring for a puppy. Cute as he is, Scout is also another responsibility who needs time and attention. Lots of the time, Maxwell and Ella share an incredible friendship and bond between brother and sister. I've posted this before, but my favorite phrase I hear them whisper to each other is, "Remember, best friends stick together."

And they do, but I guess best friend's fight too. Last week went something like this, on repeat.

Laughter and playing until..Sister and her imaginary friend Simba plan an amazing pretend party that brother's not invited too. Brother then gets too rough and karate chops sister. Sister reacts with the shrillest most ear piercing cry/whine. Later outside, the puppy pounces brother and rips brother's new shirt. Wardrobe change inside, then brother throws a fit because he doesn't like dinner. I fail to meal plan so dinner is already stressful to me and I'm tense from kid's talking back. Cue husband who walks in from a long day of work. While I want to greet him with a smile and "how was your day?," what really happens is brother/sister/puppy are whinning and arguing and I'm feeling the exact opposite of this calm moment at the computer.

Then I feel like the whinny kids, the naughty dog, and the stupid dinner I made make me a failure wife and weak mother. Mind you, I come to this conclusion before he even gets out of the truck. What I want is to press rewind on our day so he can see the house like it looked like five hours earlier after I cleaned all morning. I want him to see my patience while playing Chutes and Ladders, painting water colors, and making a castle with play dough. I want him to see well behaved kids that listen and honor their mother. But it's six o'clock and those versions of ourselves have somehow faded like the afternoon.

So while he walks in and grasps the crabby state we're in, I imagine that I grab Mike's hand and run out the door. I pretend to hide with him in the backseat of the car where no one can interrupt us so I can have my turn to demand someone's attention. But just as he doesn't know every trial of my day, I don't know his. So what really happens is we say hi, make it through dinner with poorly mannered kids, and I say a 'thank goodness' at bedtime.

That was kind of how our week was going. But, like always, life went on.  And lately our happy moments are outnumbering the grumpy ones. And as I type this out, it just seems so trivial. Because right now, it's good. We are healthy. We are happy. And we love each other. Lots of hard moments in a day just seem to overwhelm me sometimes. I've been a Mama for over four years now, and I still have so much to learn. So I let them teach me. And I continue to admit, I do not have it all together.