I am having a hard time.
Sentences like that are really hard for me to write. I have always wanted to do everything- or at least I think I have. Maybe I wasn't like that in elementary school or even high school, but for the past long while, I have wanted to do everything. I want to have lots and lots of children. I want to have an extremely successful business. I want to write books. I want to look my best. I want to have, like, the greatest love story ever. I want to have plenty of extra money. I want things to come easily to me. I know. I am ridiculous. But, really. I am having a hard time.
When we had one child, we could pack him up and do pretty much wherever we wanted. He was fun and it was fun to take him places. It's not really like that with two kids. With two kids, the kids are even to the adults, only their voices are louder and they are faster at shredding paper and jumping on couches than you are. I love my children and love to gush about them whenever possible, but honestly, parenting is hard work. And I'm not talking about Henry. Allergies aside, Henry is an absolute dream baby. I know no one pre-baby wants to hear this and I definitely know that no one with just one baby wants to hear this, but babies under one? They are a piece of cake. They just need diapers and food and love and attention and sleep. They are heaven, complete with colic and screaming and everything else hard that babies do. But my toddler?
That kid is a piece of work.
Max is one of those kids that makes everyone smile at the store, but he's also one of those kids where everything is a war. Because of this, I am tired. Like, bone tired. Like, so tired that bone tired is a made up word because, really, I am screaming tired. Like, I wake up in the morning half screaming, half crying because I just am so tired I can barely breathe right. I keep telling myself that these days will pass and that I need to enjoy them (and I do enjoy them!), but I am just having a bit of a rough patch right now. I'm not even looking for advice or a solution because I know that not everything is sunny and rosy and magical for mothers and that I'll get over this (hopefully soon!), but it feels good to say that things are a little hard. They're the good kind of difficult, though, because we have a place to live that we love and we have enough money to eat and Andrew is only gone for eight hours a day rather than twelve to thirteen. It may be a hard time, but it is definitely not the hardest time we have been through or even close to it, really, or even hold a candle to some of the crap we've gone through the past couple of years. Regardless, I need to sleep.
But first! Some photographs from a long walk today!
... And that's all, I believe.