Some Honest Takes

In the spirit of summer, I hereby declare a Just a Splash Summer Sale! Now through August 11th (my birthday 😉), paid subscriptions are 25% off. TYIA for the greatest gift! xx

The other day, whilst driving my kids to and fro, one screaming for Cheddar Bunnies (I gave them to her — she threw them), the other pouting about some grievance I’d done to him (who can even say?) I had a fantasy:

One day my kids will be just a little bit older, just a little bit easier.

It was almost as if I left my body for a split second as I envisioned it. A mirage: Pool visits without the meltdown of having to wash their hair afterwards. Getting in the car without worrying about a carseat. Watching them actually eat what they asked for for breakfast, like a normal human being!!!

Even though I’d had help (thank you, Mom!), I was coming up on 48 hours of a solo parenting weekend and was vulnerable. I’d already snapped that morning (bad mama!), I was tired (my son slept in my bed x2), and I was touched out (my daughter won’t let me put her down, let alone talk to anyone else in her presence).

But just as instantly as the fantasy came, it evaporated. Because simultaneously, it hurts my heart to imagine them older than six and two. I love that at six, my son is independent, but still snuggles into me at night and wants to show me what new word he can read. I love that at two, my daughter is comically cute, like a Dr. Seuss character — her baby cheeks and the way she says, “Hi Mama!” melt me.

This is what I find to be the constant tension of motherhood. At nearly the same moment that I’m fantasizing about the future, I’m grieving the present quite literally slipping through my fingers (cue the ABBA song).

And it’s all-encompassing! I both want to be the cool, fun, chill, creative mom who stockpiles Pinterest craft ideas to do together all summer long AND I want to find a school that never goes on summer break and ship myself off to a silent retreat for a week with Nicole Prince where I write, work, and strategize my world domination all day, barely coming up for air.

Truthfully I feel guilty even writing this, though I know I shouldn’t. These are normal feelings and I know I’m not alone. Maybe it’s just the summer of it all. I’m not good with a lack of routine. I’m off my game!

I also know that each new age, each new phase, brings with it its own set of challenges. Some things get easier, others get harder. I mean, can you imagine teenagers?!

I suppose it’s a both/and. The gratitude and the longing will coexist. We contain multitudes, and all that. Right?