I’m writing this at 5.21am. I woke up early but instead of sleeping, I’m working. Working hard to restore and regain some peace inside my turbulent head. Someone once said to me, the greatest distance was between the head and the heart. Things that in theory should come easy, don’t. Parenting is one of those things. Forgiving yourself is another.
So I sit here, in the undisturbed twilight. I can hear birds singing. In all the hustle bustle you all bring me daily, it drowns out the quiet noises. One day, these quiet noises will drown out my thirst for the pandemonium that once ruled my life.
As I sit here, I ruminate. I plan. I hope. My days are filled with tumultuous love for you all. Getting up early sets my brain to cope with the trials of parenthood. I lick battle wounds of previous days and ponder on scars of years before. I am a human being not just a parent, although that’s all you will see me as for at least a few more decades.
I try to do the very best for you all. My parents did the best job they could with the tools they had as did their parents and theirs before. We are all a product of love through the ages, however that love may be construed. They were human beings too, living their lives in the best way they could. Making sacrifices and tough decisions. Yes, they didn’t always get it right. Neither do I. I really hope you’ll understand someday. I hope I do too.
So with each sip of coffee, I mentally dress for battle. Battle of the breakfasts, the school runs, the housework, the school meetings, the judgey parents in the playground, the running around fitting everything in before the end of the day, the trials you all put me through. One day you’ll understand. One day I will too.