From underneath the table

Parenting is sometimes, on hands and knees, picking up the pieces from a night gone by

When you should be asleep

But you’re not

Because, life…

And you go to pick up board games sprawled across the floor to find more mayhem.

And you’re tired

But you keep going because life.:.

And you find the madness that your children have left and you wonder for a moment, then grab a broom, or a mop, or a match. Whatever fits.

So we wrestle against the ideal

And fight against time

We are only human

And we think we should be more

But we aren’t

We are flesh and bone raising flesh and bone

And the result is often messy…

Far from ideal

But we are breathing.

So I wonder if I can breathe when the board games drape the floor and I wonder what alien has invaded the floor beneath my dining room table.

Please tell me I’m not the only one!

Are we compelled to be the ideal or is there grace for the Lego littered floors and kid-scattered madness.

Is it okay to be human?!?

Or am I drowning?

I don’t really know.

But I know my kids are safe and asleep in their beds while I fight the dining room floor demons again.

Tomorrow, bring a clean, clutter free floor.

If not? Help me know that’s okay!

Otherwise, find me snuggled in a ball of Lego’s and remember I had greatness in me once.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s