Parenting Isn't All Rainbows and Butterflies

Being a parent is great.  But, sometimes, being a parent is really hard, and it sucks.  There are many reasons for a parent's day to be awful.  Yesterday was one of those days for me, and it was all my fault.  I woke up with a bad attitude.  I wanted a break.  It's been about two weeks since I've had any time alone from my children, and that was just to run a few errands.  I didn't want to go to my son's last soccer game.  I didn't want to deal with my daughter being sick and miserable.  I didn't want my husband to work another Saturday.  Thus, my patience was thin.

Sure, bad days happen to every parent.  That's natural and normal.  Just don't take out your own frustrations on your children.  And, that's what I was trying so hard to not do.  

We went into Target to get a few things for my son's soccer coach.  I was so impatient.  I didn't want to be there.  I didn't want to be a Debbie Downer in the store.  I wanted to look like a happy mom, but I didn't succeed.  My lips were pulled tight.  I was picking out a card for the coach and my son stepped on my flip-flopped feet with his cleats for the third time.  

"Really?  Really?  You have got to watch where you are stepping, son."  I exclaimed, my voice full of exasperation. 

A complete stranger, old enough to be my mother, said "You are going to miss this when they are 35 and 37."  

I ended up talking to this nice woman for a few minutes.  I completely vented to her, which is unlike me.  She showed me pictures of her newborn grandson.  She told me that she remembered her kids at this age.  She remembered the hard days, and she remembered the fun day.  Most importantly, she wanted me to know that I was going to miss my kids when they were adults, and to not take this time for granted.  

I left the store thinking about the advice of a stranger.  

I continued on to my son's game.  It was cold.  It started raining.  I didn't have an umbrella.  The kids were still going to play, at least, for a few minutes.  I told the other moms that I was going inside because I didn't want my daughter to catch pneumonia (I know, it's isn't a "catching" thing), and someone please watch my son.  I added, sarcastically, that I was clearly trying out to be Mom of the Year.  

I strolled inside the church (that's the field where the league is) feeling guilty.  During this time I was forced to talk to other adults, a couple were from my Sunday School class, and pretend to be happy whilst chasing my daughter around.  I really did want to watch my son play; I just didn't want to get my daughter sicker.

By the time we left the soccer party/trophy giving/celebration thing my spirits had lifted.  I was glad my son enjoyed his season.  I was thankful to have a young daughter to chase around.  I was glad to be around to wipe my daughter's nose.  I appreciated my time with my children the rest of the day.  I attribute this to the stranger I ran into at Target.  She had been in my shoes.  She knew not all days were bad, and to appreciated the time I get to spend with my children while they are young.