I’m enough for them, & so are you.

It’s been one of those weeks – a week that would put my college days’ caffeine consumption to shame. Getting through each day with the help of one pop and fizz after another. It’s been an exhausting season.

Running across town to retrieve last minutes presents, convincing myself to get out of bed despite the gigantic lack of sleep I’m facing – I’m not sure how I’m able to function on such little sleep crossed with so much responsibility.

But, when I think about this being my first un-pregnant Christmas in two years, it still makes me a little sad.

We had no idea how wonderful, hectic, frustrating and fun our lives would be in just a few short months.

We could only imagine last Christmas if we would have two little girls in matching dresses the next year, or a brother and sister sitting opposite on Santa’s lap.

Regardless of the comments my sleep deprived zombie self says about small children out of frustration, it really is all wonderful.

As I sit here typing, one sleepy boy breathes slowly into my arm, snuggled into the crevice of my elbow that is perfectly shaped for his soft blonde head.

Upstairs an energized girl is waking up from her nap, and I’m hopeful for a pleasant afternoon with her – outside, playing where she is her happiest.

I anticipate their smiles and their giggles, and I dread the things that make them sad. I pride myself in being the one that knows them well enough to surprise them with belly laughs and snorts, and to avoid the things that snub them.

Sometimes that means setting aside my ego and snorting like a pig while running through the house. Other times all it takes is a look, and a raspberry on a bare belly. Whatever it is, I’m there.

I’ve been struggling with feelings of inadequacy lately, and in some ways this is the only way I’m reminded that I’m enough. I’m enough to my children that look to me for encouragement, for safety, for the reassurance that their world is ok.

Even when mine feels like it’s shifting, theirs stands still. Because at the end of the day, I’ve got my pop and fizz, and a redeeming grace to get through a few more.


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