Tired and loved, but still so dang tired.
I read this letter this morning and it made my (very tired) heart heave a big (huge, massive) sigh of complete and utter relief.
Seems there are signs all over the place pointing me back to Square One: You. Are. Loved.
Even with that sigh of relief, the wind still somehow seemed to miss my sails completely today.
And I’m pretty sure my pep got lost and went home in someone else’s step.
As my adorable grandpa has been lately wont to say, My get-up-and-go just got up and left.
In other words, today I was tired. And even after I was reminded that tired mamas are still loved mamas, I still just stayed tired.
Tired heart, tired mind, tired body, tired soul.
I don’t even need to ask if you’ve ever felt that way.
I know you have.
We all just get licked, plain and simple, sometimes.
By the housework, and the kids, and the grocery shopping, and the job, and the family, and the griefs and well, you know the drill.
Licked by life.
(And probably licked by the dog, while we’re at it. Dogs take things literally like that.)
And although, gloriously, we can all feel licked together sometimes, and realize we’re not so alone in our licked-ness, sometimes even the knowing-we’re-not-licked-alone doesn’t lessen the licking. (But alliterations are always fun, aren’t they?)
Today was a very-not-lessened-licked kind of day for me.
I woke up death-tired, cranky, and overwhelmed and I did. not. care. that other people might have woken up that way too.
The knowledge of our solidarity in the struggle just didn’t do it for me.
Because then there was still the breakfast-making.
And the grocery shopping.
And the driving-with-the-tired-yelling-baby.
And the other stuff that days are very often made of, but that just managed to make today too much.
So when we got home from the store, we barely finished putting away the groceries and went to try for a nap.
As you may know, an extremely overtired baby does not an easy nap-time make. So when try #3 failed miserably….I did what any mature, reasonable person does:
I sat down on the floor and cried. Right with my baby.
She hugged and kissed me, I hugged and kissed her.
And we cried, and we loved each other, and we cried some more.
Ladies and gents, I know this moment may not be my most mature, or finest moment.
It was not the moment of a Champion Gentle Parent.
But do you know what?
The crying and the hugging and the kissing and the just-for-one-second giving up on trying to hold it together and be the grown up Grown-up….
Because being loved does make a difference.
We stopped crying.
We wiped our snotty noses, and my girl laid down and went to sleep.
I finished putting away the groceries, made a cup of coffee, and felt, for the first time all day, able to push the reset button.
So push it, I did. And when that coffee was gone, the sun broke through the clouds just like my own personal inspirational movie script would tell it to, and I realized that it’s okay to be licked some days.
Because licked is never the last word.
The last word is always, always Loved.