Beauty in the broken.

10:29 PM


  "Charlotte, what does c-a-n-d-y spell?  I heard Mom and Dad talking about it in their whispery voices again."   *Charlotte's eyes widen with intrigue* 

  A new little tradition we've started around here is that when Daddy is gone for the evening, we get to have a girls-only movie night.  I don't know why I haven't thought of this earlier.  Often when Randy is gone, I would just try to put them to bed as early as possible so I could have a little down-time too.  But with summer days staying light SO long and it being rather toasty in our house until the evening cools down, this has proved to be a more difficult task then usual.  So letting them stay up later has been a win/win all around.  Plus now I get an excuse to watch all of the great kids movies on Netflix.  You know you've been wanting to too. Tonight's feature was Esther, the Veggietales version.  I think it was a hit.




    There is something so enchanting about those evening hours right before sunset when the sun is sinking low and the breeze is chilling by the minute and the shadows are starting to dance their way across the walls....it's so peaceful.  It's the time of day when your work is nearly done, and soon you will be in that free zone when you can do something absolutely mindless and not feel guilty, or do something only slightly productive and feel just SO industrious because I mean, hey, it's the free zone!



And now as I write this, they are sleeping soundly in their beds and I get to heave that great big sigh that moms everywhere are breathing right about now that says WE DID IT.  Another day, another dollar.  Tomorrow kicks off the weekend early and boy, sometimes we need it.  Don't get me wrong, there is magic is sooooo many of these moments.  But there is also a lot of work.   Plain and simple, lots of hard work.  And isn't that the beauty of motherhood?  It's in the dichotomy.  There are these raw moments of emotion when their hair is curling in sticky, shiny ringlets around their flushed cheeks and our hearts lodge in our throats and we think, "Could a creature ever be more beautiful?" 

   But then there are raw moments of deepest frustration and exasperation and your skin feels like it's stretched too tight to contain all of the fury inside and you wonder if one day you will just break.  Break, beyond repair, never to be the same again.  That somehow the fatigue and the stress and the constant barage of responsibilities and needs and trying desperately to train little souls will just finally overtake you, and you will just....break.

   The thought that keeps me going, is this:  I don't think I would recognize the beautiful moments for what they are, without the ugly.  The magic wouldn't be as sweet without the mundane.  The bliss, without the broken.  So I get up each morning and I try to see it all as a blessing.  Not just the moments when chubby arms wrap tight around my neck, and innocent eyes look at me as if I hold their world.  Not just those, because of course those are easy.  But ALL the moments.  To scoop up each one and hold it tight because even when it feels like it will squeeze the life-breath out of me, it is only just that.  A moment.  And it will pass, and one day I will wish for all of them back, broken ones and all.

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