This Stuff Is Hard.

Raising humans is hard enough as it is, throw in a 12 hour night shift three nights a week and I’m ready to throw my hands up. [Jesus take the wheel] I’ve mastered the art of doing everything slightly late and moderately well. I measure success by whether everyone has pants on by 8am. I’ll have everyone fed and in their rooms playing, go to sit down on the couch and decompress, when I realize the two year old needs changing and the six year old still has homework and a permission slip that needs to be signed. On my days off I feel like I have it all together, but on nights that I work–I feel like a walking reminder that no one has this figured out. Some days I’m patient and present; other days I’m counting down to bedtime by noon. But somewhere in middle of the chaos, the kids are growing, the lessons keep coming, and I keep learning that motherhood isn’t about getting it right — its about showing up, laughing when you can, and learning as you go.

During these years (nine to be exact), I’ve realized that the learning never actually stops. Just when I think I’ve figured out one stage, the kids change, the questions get bigger (and wilder if we are talking about my six year old daughter), and the stakes feel higher (and I haven’t even made it to the teenage years yet!). This season of motherhood looks different than the early days, but it’s teaching me just as much. And that’s where this space begins.

Motherhood has a way of changing you one child at a time, usually when you’re already tired. With the first, you Google everything and assume every decision will permanently shape their future. With the second, you learn that kids are surprisingly resilient and that goldfish crackers count as a food group, and with the third, you’re basically running a small, loud organization fueled by snacks and negotiations. Over time, you stop chasing perfection and start valuing peace. You learn which battles matter, which ones can wait, and which ones you simply do not have the time or energy for today. Raising multiple kids stretches you thin, but it also thickens your skin, sharpens your humor, and teaches you that growth doesn’t stop with them — it keeps happening in you, usually while breaking up an argument over something wildly insignificant.

I’m raising humans the best I can, learning as I go, and choosing grace on the days I fall short.

From the middle of motherhood, Cyn.