I’ve been absent lately. Absent from this blog, from relationships, from life in general. I’ve been trying to figure out how to heal, how to grow stronger, how to move forward. And in that time I haven’t healed completely, I’m still figuring out how to put the pieces back together, but I have figured one thing out: children have healing powers.
In an effort to be transparent and relatable we (I) often talk about how hard parenting is. And it is. It is really freaking hard and relentless and exhausting, but it is also rewarding. And at the end of the day, when you’re exhausted and annoyed and covered in food and drool and dirt, you’re still grateful for those tiny little faces tucked into bed. Because as much as we as parents do for our children they pay us back tenfold.
From the day they are born when every part of your body hurts, somehow you find comfort just staring at their tiny face. That tiny face holds secret healing powers. It makes you temporarily relieved of every physical ache and pain. And so you find yourself staring for hours a day at that face. It becomes an addiction. That tiny face is the only way we make it through the first few days, weeks, months.
And from there it just keeps getting better. She smiles when you enter the room. You start to realize she has your lips and his eyes. She says mama (or more likely dada) for the first time. Grabs your hand as she takes her first unsteady steps. All of these tiny acts make everything worth it. Make every day worth fighting for. Those tiny hands unknowingly mend so many wounds.
And now, now I have a daughter who can express her gratitude. Who can empathize when I’m feeling down. Who has more compassion than any other human I’ve met in the past thirty four years. And then there’s my son, my cuddle bug, my goofball. Even when he’s mischievous he’s adorable and apologetic. The two of them, together or apart, generate smiles and laughter wherever they go. I couldn’t be more in awe of and more grateful for these funny little people. I don’t know what I did to deserve them, but I also don’t know how I would survive without them. I know that this won’t last forever and that someday Wes won’t want to cuddle anymore and Ev will despise me for not letting her get a tattoo of a raptor on her back, but for now their hugs and kisses and their tiny faces and hands and all of the secret healing powers that come along with them are exactly what I need.
My Shiny Happy Life 