I've called my mom and said those exact words.
"I seriously don't understand why someone always has to be on top of me!?"
"Why do they have to rub or pull or pick constantly?"
"Do I smell like candy or something??"
"ugh, I just want to NOT be touched anymore"
I know. They look and sound horrible when I hear them now. Especially out-loud. But at the time, it was true. I didn't enjoy having someone rub the back of my arm for 30 minutes while I tried to clip coupons....but he needed to. He'd just had a melt down and lost his temper. He said things I know his 5 year old little heart didn't mean. He hurt his mommy's feelings and he wanted to make up for it. I totally get that, and when it isn't in the moment I am thankful he has a compassionate heart.
It just isn't always that easy.
I get tired, and frustrated, and overly emotional. Because I am so many things to so many people and it wears on you. It's hard to have a husband that works all the time. It's hard to be the tough one, and the one who fixes the nightmares, and the only one anyone will go to when they are sick/tired/mad/upset.
I get tired, and frustrated, and overly emotional. Because I am so many things to so many people and it wears on you. It's hard to have a husband that works all the time. It's hard to be the tough one, and the one who fixes the nightmares, and the only one anyone will go to when they are sick/tired/mad/upset.
Being MOM is hard.
I fail at it, a lot more than anyone else will admit. But I think I get it right too. A lot more than I will ever admit.
I fail at it, a lot more than anyone else will admit. But I think I get it right too. A lot more than I will ever admit.
So when my 2 year old comes to sit half on my rib cage, half on my hip and pull my pony tail so he can fall off to dream land yeah I might get a little agitated. It hurts to have your hair pulled. It hurts to have a 33 lbs toddler sitting in the space between your ribs and hip bone (yeah that's a seat, apparently) and it totally stinks to have booger fingers in your sort of clean hair. But I know that no matter how grumpy it makes me when I'm having a moment of self pity, it would make their little hearts hurt 1 million, zillion times more for me to NOT be there.
I may vent to someone else. I may even really mean what I say at the time. But there will come a day when I ache to have those little fingers twirl the hair behind my ear. I'll miss the sweet hands that always tickled with their gentle touch on the soft skin on the back of my arm.
I'll be thankful for the times when they needed me.
I may vent to someone else. I may even really mean what I say at the time. But there will come a day when I ache to have those little fingers twirl the hair behind my ear. I'll miss the sweet hands that always tickled with their gentle touch on the soft skin on the back of my arm.
I'll be thankful for the times when they needed me.
Because they may grow out of their need, but I never will.
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