I was recently asked to reflect upon what the hardest thing is about being a parent.
It’s advocating for a sick child with professionals who are supposed to know far more then you do.
It’s the looking at other children and asking, “Why us?”
It’s looking at other children and thinking, “Thank God that’s not us.”
It’s the guilt, the shame, the denial and the blind spot you have for your child.
It’s the assumption that you’re always prepared, planned and organized for whatever the day may bring.
It’s staying up late and getting up early, always being on and always having the right answer.
It’s not knowing how to trust your parental intuition.
It’s the responsibility of caring for your child even when no one is looking.
It’s feeling guilty that you can’t wait to leave to go to work for some relief.
It’s the worrying when you’re not home that you should be there.
It’s the constant fear that you’re failing at the most important job of your life.
It’s remembering who you were as a person before becoming a parent.
It’s remembering who you wanted to be as a parent someday.
It’s the long days and short years.
It’s feeling, more often than not, that you are half-assing everything and succeeding at nothing.
It’s finding time to shower, think and blink.
It’s the laundry.
And the grocery bills.
And the medical bills.
And the life bills.
It’s everything you don’t see on Facebook.