The Art of Becoming

I recently felt utterly consumed. I imagine I'm not alone in this feeling; to be a parent is to stay tuned in with little, crazy, brain-not-yet-developed creatures. These creatures have the ability to scream, yell, demonically grab the stairs (where they are taking a time out) and LET LOOSE at the top of their lungs, throat extended like that of a wolf at the moon. There are moments when I feel so consumed by these little crazy people that I have to leave the house. Looking for someone to take over so that I may escape, I text my dear husband who is in the process of taking public transportation home at the end of his work day. Even though I know he can't get home any faster, my texts go something like this: me: What's your ETA? Sean is completely losing it right now. We don't have the flavor of Popsicle he wants. or me: Please hurry home. I need a break from Frances. She hasn't stopped screaming for 25 minutes and she's following me around the house cryin...

It seems parenting is filled with an array of emotions. Some parents talk about not wanting their kids to ever grow up. That's not me. I try to embrace the joyful moments as they come, breathe through the aggravating moments, and take breaks when I'm about to lose my mind. I have never found that any emotion sticks around for too long. A joyful moment, where the sun seems to shine just right, the kids are playing well with together and listening to the adults, will quickly be followed with a child's poop-in-the-pants-and-on-the-hands moment, followed by 30 minutes of clean up and cursing under my breath. A pull-my-hair-out moment at 3am with a teething baby will be followed by restful slumber and gazing at my sweet one, silent music playing in my ears at how glorious this moment can be. And the wheel turns. With the recent flood of back to school posts and pictures on Facebook, I see a similar array of emotions from parents: sadness, anxiety, nostalgia, gratitude, pride, ...