All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, A light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be blade that was broken, The crownless again shall be king.
Dear Gloriously Horrible Children,
Another day has passed of me being wiped out from chasing you little monsters around the park on your scooters –worrying about your heads breaking open because you refuse to keep your helmets on; stopping you from burning the house down as you’ve decided to make your own waffles because I didn’t make them with the perfect ‘squishy center’; shuttling you back and forth from ballet to gymnastics while maneuvering around the worst drivers on the planet; taking you to yet another doctor appointment because you keep getting weird illnesses that are probably from you ingesting shit off of the floor that shouldn’t be putting into your mouths, and setting up play-dates with random kids where the parents are always absent and the nannies suck.
I am smiling in the dark.
I smile because I know that you are having an idyllic childhood– even if it is at the expense of my sanity.
Swimming in the pool until your skin gets pruned, having epic water balloon fights, riding bikes and scooters until your little legs want to give out, countless hours at Disney so that you can swap pins on lanyards and hang out with princesses, Kien’s hoarding of all of the cool toys in secret boxes squirreled away in the corner of the closet; Olivia’s rants from not being able to find the cool toys and biting her sister because she suspects that she is being screwed over, creating masterpieces with Legos, paint, and clay.
What is a masterpiece without the mess? — all over my new furniture, of course!
Watching you put on plays and creating alternative worlds from your keen brains that have been sharpened by hours of non-conforming imaginary workshops.
Seeing you discover the oh-ah wonder in everything and not wanting to waste a minute of your awake time.
I can close my eyes at night and sleep well — knowing that you are happy, feel loved, and will be recharged for another day of conquering your world.
I love and adore you,
Your Gloriously Tired Mom
