Parenting.

You guys.

Seriously.

Parenting is tough.

I know...what a totally original thought, huh? You've read the articles and heard the cries of other parents and all that jazz already. But it's my turn to harp on the subject for a minute. Because I'm in it deep and constantly feel like I'm struggling to stay afloat.

No matter what season of parenting you're in, it's hard. And I know this to be true, even for the years ahead that I have yet to experience. How do I know this if I haven't been there? Because when I only had one little friend at home and she couldn't talk or do anything for herself, I thought "Man, this is hard. I have no one to talk to & I have to do everything for this kid. It will be so much easier when she's independent." And then she became independent, walking & talking & fetching her own diapers/sippy cups/etc. But it wasn't easier; it was harder. Because "Get out of that cabinet!" and "You forgot to say please." and "Oh my god, do you ever stop talking?" Independence comes with a price, y'all. And I thought to myself, "Man, this is hard. I don't know how to discipline a toddler and keep up with her while I'm gigantically pregnant. It will be so much easier when I'm not pregnant anymore & I have a sleepy newborn & this chickadee finally understands the rules around here." Ha! How adorably naïve I was. You guessed it - 2 kids was so much harder.

I could go on & on because every stage we've been in has been tough. Exhausting. Taxing. And, in every stage, I've thought to myself "It'll be easier when..." And yes, some things are easier. A 5-year-old that can spoon-feed the 10-month-old his yogurt and a 3-year-old that can put on his own shoes...these things are what I was imagining would make my life a piece of cake. But I didn't account for the other 900 new challenges that would arise. It's just...sigh...overwhelming.

I'm constantly battling with myself over this feeling. I know things could be harder right now. I know other families are struggling far more than I am. I know I should be grateful for all of the blessings we have and just suck it up. But because others are suffering more than me, because others have been dealt a more trying hand, does that diminish the feelings I'm having? Does that make this sensation of complete physical, mental, & emotional exhaustion less real?

Am I allowed to feel that the stage I'm in right now is really hard, even if it's not harder than what others are facing?

I'm finally in a place where I'm saying: yes. I am allowed. Because parenting is tough, no matter how many you have and how old your kids are. And right now, with 3 tiny humans at my feet, this is hard.

The biggest vein running through all of the difficulty is pressure. The pressure is suffocating. Parenting is just one pressure after another. I used to babysit in high school. Sure, there's a great deal of responsibility with babysitting - you're being trusted with someone's kids, their whole world! I thought there wasn't much of a difference between that & parenting. And then I brought my first child home from the hospital and I distinctly remember thinking "Crap. We have to make all of the decisions now. It's all on us." Because, when you babysit, you're not in charge of making the giant decisions. You know, the ones that affect what kind of person she will become, how healthy & happy she will be. The big stuff. And that? That right there is an incredible amount of pressure.

No one else decides what school they're going to go to and what time bedtime should be. It's up to us to figure out how to get 5 servings of fruits & veggies into their little bellies each day. We are the ones that implemented the "no TV after dinner" rule and the books-before-bed routine. A babysitter comes in & just facilitates the routine that the parents set in place. It's all on us.

No one else has to figure out how to answer all the questions these guys come up with. You should have heard me explain to my preschooler why his arm falls asleep sometimes (I am a pro at dumbing things down to the appropriate level now.) But the questions aren't always as simple as "why don't birds have fingers." I got to explain to my 5-year-old why her preschool went on lockdown last week. (Yes, lockdown. Like, kids sitting in silence, hiding under the backpacks, lights out, etc. There was an armed man in the area, so the police put the preschool on lockdown. I'm still trying to forget the feeling of pulling up to school and finding out the doors were locked & I couldn't get my daughter.) How much do you tell them? There's a lot of evil in the world, but at what age are they ready to handle the details? The teachers won't explain it; that falls on the parents to decide. (For the record, I told her that a bad person was in the area so the preschool director just wanted to keep everybody extra safe for a little bit. She was cool with that answer.)

I like to tell myself that we're doing an okay job. We've been doing this for over 5 years now, everybody is alive and seemingly happy. We got complimented at a restaurant last week for our well-behaved crew, specifically on how well-mannered the big kids were. (Compliments like that, even from complete strangers, are what keep me going. Positive affirmation is totally my love language.) So there are moments where it feels like we've got things under control. Then days like yesterday happen, and I start doubting everything we've done up to this point. (Aha! You were wondering what sparked this rainy Friday's parenting rant, weren't you?)

Last night, the husband and I had to forego a VERY much-needed date night in the name of discipline. Ok, he didn't need it so much as me; I was desperate for a break from the 4ft-&-under crowd. A stubborn 3-year-old who refused to take a nap & was threatened that no nap = no Grandma's house stood in the way of my break.

Discipline is such a struggle around here - how to do it effectively based on age, how high can the expectations really be, what can and can't we let slide by. We have very high expectations (if you don't expect good behavior, you're not going to get it!) so there are hard & fast rules with accompanying consequences. The well-mannered, decently-behaved kids are a product of these rules, so I know we aren't being unreasonable.

But here's the thing about consequences and kids - they suck for the parents almost more than they suck for the kids. No snack? I get to listen to you whine about how hungry you are. No TV? I just lost my 22 minutes of quiet while I try to get something done. No Grandma's house? There goes my date night. And it's soooooo tempting to give in, to not follow through on the threats. Thank goodness for the husband's resolve or I might have given in last night. The 3-year-old would have received mixed messages all so Mommy could indulge in wine & pasta & bread (all the bread!) Instead, a hard lesson was learned with the hope of a better outcome in the future...and I had a PB&J.

As hard as it was for me to get past all the "woe is me" that was going through my head last night, I know it was a small victory in our giant parenting war. (I didn't hear a peep out of that boy at nap time today; those eyes were shut before I started downstairs.) So I know it's working. It's just hard, a constant fight, a daily question of "Are they really getting this? Are all of these lessons sinking in?"

If you can get past all of the pressure of turning these little blobs into contributing members of society, there are a million other things that make parenting a struggle. Like the fact that you have to be on at all times. Prepared for anything & everything. This is the part where I'm going to be stereotypical & say that us Moms have it worse in this area. Just look at the family at the table next to you at the restaurant. Who brought the bibs & the spoons & the sippy cups & the fruit cups & the puffs & the crayons? And who whips out the Goldfish & the stickers & the pacifier from her big bag of tricks when the food is taking just a little too long? And how did all of those things get into the big bag in the first place? Mom. What did Dad have to bring? The van keys. (Disclaimer: I have a very helpful husband who is quick to fill up my diaper bag when needed, but not without some direction.) It's just my job to know exactly what we're going to need at any given point in the future. Just like it's my job to know when the baby needs his next well-check at the pediatrician & when the big kids have to go the dentist next & which day we have to send in Easter napkins for the preschool party. Are their green shirts clean for St. Patrick's Day? Do we have enough milk to get through breakfast? It's on me to keep track of whose turn it is to eat their half of the yogurt out of the cup it comes in versus just a bowl (this is a very big deal around here.)

Oh hey, more pressure.

I know the husband is dealing with his own separate set of pressures, big things that are constantly weighing on him that I don't feel - being the sole monetary provider, weighing his free time between family & leisure, just trying to get home before 6:00 to help while I make dinner. I don't want to diminish these in any way. It just goes to show that every parent is being mentally pulled in a million directions. And it's hard for all of us. And even though my hardships are different than someone else's, we're all struggling through it in our own way.

Parenting is tough.

Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a bowl of ice cream on the counter & an episode of Scandal in the DVR that are calling my name. God bless bedtime.