Being a parent.

There are days that start in peaceful quiet, warm and smooth.  A full cup of coffee that goes down hot.  Where the aroma is enough to lure you out of bed and into the joy of snuggles and books.  The day's promise looms on the horizon and you take it in, soft and gentle.

Then.  There are days where the harsh sound of vomit landing on the carpet propels you with more force than that of a jet engine.  When you make it just in time to land in a heap with your crying child in your lap.  Your mommy hands wiping his tears, smoothing his hair off his hot feverish face.  When that cup of coffee is desperate and drunk in heavy chugs in the quick run by's between children in need.

Good Morning.

How many of you remember the new parents (or were those) who would become greatly annoyed when the veterans would share their tales of violent displays of tantrum, marathon labors and the unsavory *ahem* aspects of parenting.  May I just say that these are not scare tactics, but badges of honor that only parents who have been in the trenches can appreciate.  Therefore, what should be taken away is that women who have not yet experienced the throes of an all nighter with a cholichy baby only to be awoken from the scant moments of sleep to a vomiting toddler, have no value for what awaits.  BUT!  When they get there, will be thrilled to express their mighty mommyness, when they persevered, endured, only to collapse in a heap of exhaustion after the last child had closed their eyes in a Tshirt reeking of vomit, matted, greasy hair, to be awoken by the sound of. . .    You get the picture.  They however will not.  

There are also the parents who may never grasp this REALITY this, who may stop at one, who may have envyingly amounts of outside help, who may have those (I've heard of them, but can't attest to) EASY kids.  The thing is, every person's experience is DIFFERENT.  Some parents may be let off the hook. . .  And, they'll never know, because everyone's reality is the hardest, most painful, most intense.

I like the club of parents who span time, race, generation, religion, politics, to land in the glorious puddle, of 'oh yeah, well this one time'. . . !  Not to outdo one another, but to share in joyous experience that comes from the refining chaos of parenting.  This raising of children is the scariest thing that you will ever do.  It will consume you from the moment you bring your helpless, perfectly scrubbed infant home and check their breathing twenty times the first hour, to the day they start school, to when they peel out in your car, to when they pack their bags and leave, to when they call to tell you they're starting a family.  So, I chuckle a little when the pregnant woman reaches over and says, we prefer to not be 'scared' about what awaits.  I just hope they're grounded enough to push up their sleeves when the poop flies.  And you thought having a monkey would be a chore.

  There are different ways to parent.  Where I've landed is head down, heart open, hands free, happy to be in each and every moment.  Even the ones that reek.  

I have been guilty of sharing my HORROR stories with new parents.  I'm very sorry for those that I've offended.  I guess to me they aren't scary, they aren't terrible experiences.  They are the amazing moments that I've been given to CHOOSE my CHILD over ME.  Where I've looked at the baby covered in bodily fluids, pulled them close and held them, because they needed my arms more than my disgust, they needed my love more than my practicality.   They needed their MOM and that was ME.

Today is one of those days, where I get to joyfully be in all of the moments that 4 years ago would have left me curled in the fetal position.  It's not even all that bad anymore.  What was once obscene has now become common.  I have been desensitized by the wild demands of my children.  and I LOVE it!  Here is to this DAY.  I'm thinking it's time for another cup of joe.