Life is an uphill battle.
All. The. Time.
And those fleeting moments when I feel like we’ve finally reached the peak and might be in for a little bit of a break I discover it’s not a hill; it’s a treadmill.
The largest non-ending uphill-tilted treadmill on the face of the entire earth.
And it’s not a normal, smooth treadmill. It has dips, and bumps and barbed wire, and brick walls, and thorny briars. The dishes, the meals, the messes, the job, the drama, the laundry, the shopping, the doctor appointments, and everything else that comes with life. The same things come around and around, again and again…
And then parenthood brings a whole new set of repeatable battles. “What do you mean you can only find ONE of each of your pairs of 20 shoes?” “Why is the bathroom flooded, again, for the fourth time today?” “Why is half the pile of “dirty” laundry STILL FOLDED?!”
And now I’m not just responsible for climbing my own treadmill, I have to teach a horde of little people how to climb their own.
It’s exhausting trying to climb and navigate my obstacles while keeping an eye on the obstacles my kids are facing, and helping them get through it in the best way possible. Especially when all they want to do on their treadmill is hang on the guide rails and stand on the screen, and see how fast they can fling things off the back.
Sometimes I just want to plop down and cry out of frustration. But, I know what happens when you quit walking on a treadmill. It’s not pretty.
The thing I forget about being a parent is that I’m not the only one teaching. My kids are teaching me too.
I get so caught up in trying to help them stay on their treadmill, I forget that they can help me to get off of mine.
Last night my boys, by some miracle, talked me into going outside in the summer heat to play in the backyard. I hit a baseball around with one, and then threw the football with another.
I am sad to say that it has been a long time since I did that. Despite the heat, and the stickers in the grass, I enjoyed myself.
But the best part came just before bed; the ‘I love you mom’ flowed a little bit easier, and the hugs were a little bit tighter.
One day, my kids will pack up and take their treadmill somewhere else. They won’t be right next to mine, helping me to get off.
I guess I better take all the lessons I can get.
I love the “still folded” laundry. Must mean they don’t need those clothes any more. Make them pay you a job for washing something without it being worn, or having to put it away twice, etc,
They are all unique and when you have figured out just how to handle each one, they will leave home.
Someday, you need to tell the boneless chicken story.