Some days it's a bit hard to take. So I get a really big kick out of the book "Love You Forever", by Robert Munsch--you know the one:
I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my baby you'll be.
. . .that book that makes everyone cry because of how special the love between a parent and their child is. Well, I like it for a different reason. This passage is one of my favorites.
The baby grew. He grew and he grew and he grew. He grew until he was two years old, and he ran all around the house. He pulled all the books off the shelves. He pulled all the food out of the refrigerator and he took his mother's watch and flushed it down the toilet. Sometimes his mother would say, "this kid is driving me CRAZY!"
Those words could only have been written by a parent who has lived in the trenches, and survived to tell the tale. If someone who at one point had children who were as "misbehaved" as mine usually are, and felt those parental feelings of frustration, could still go on to write an inter-generationally beloved book about the great love between a parent and child--then surely there is hope for me.
I've long tried to embrace my household of little boys, to appreciate the things that only come with little boys-- and I feel like I've done pretty well with that. Though I'll still freely admit that sometimes my favorite interactions with my boys are the ones in which they are sleeping. And I can allow my heart to be filled with love alone, and have those feelings deep inside to get me through the next day.