It’s ok.
It’s ok that even
though we bought him a brand new bed, and brand new blankets, and a brand new pillow,
and put a TV in his room…Brodie still wants to sleep next to us in the floor.
It’s ok.
Because one day, he
won’t need us so much anymore. Because sleeping on the floor doesn’t actually
hurt anything. Because as long as he sleeps, it doesn’t really matter where,
anyway.
It’s ok.
It’s ok that I wasn’t
excited when the stick had two lines. That I was disappointed. And scared. And
pissed off. And angry. That I spent the first three months of my pregnancy in
tears.
It’s ok.
Because I’m excited
now. Because I can’t wait to be her mother. Because sometimes, the best things
in life are the ones that you don’t plan on.
It’s ok.
It’s ok that sex is
the last thing in the world I want to do right now. That I feel uncomfortable
and unsexy and unable to make myself feel any different.
It’s ok.
Because it doesn’t
mean I love my husband any less. Because it won’t last forever. Because it’s
nothing personal. Because it’s just pregnancy hormones. Because one day, my
body will be mine again and my husband will get to reap the benefits, too. Because
he loves me anyway and he’s not going anywhere.
It’s ok.
It’s ok that the
laundry never gets put away. Even though it’s clean. Even though I’m home. Even
though I swear every day I’m going to do it. Even though I’m out of excuses.
It’s ok.
Because at least it’s
clean. Because everyone knows where to find their clean socks and underwear. Because
at least it’s all contained to the laundry room. Because in 18 years, it isn’t
really going to matter.
It’s ok.
It’s ok that Logan
still has training wheels. Even though everyone says he shouldn’t. Even though
his friends don’t. Even though he’s six.
It’s ok.
Because he’s only
six, not sixteen. Because everyone seems to care but him. Because when he’s
ready, he’ll take them off. Because he rides his bike anyway, really fast, and
doesn’t seem to notice the difference. Because he could care less about peer
pressure and one day, we’re going to be really grateful for that.
It’s ok.
It’s ok that I’m
not well put together. That I lose my cool over pee and poop and puke. That I
get my feelings hurt. That I don’t have all the answers. That I put myself
first sometimes. That some days, I just don’t want to.
It’s ok.
Because being well
put together is only a facade. Because pee and poop and puke are disgusting.
Because I’m only human, even though I’m a mother and a woman, too. Because if I
had all the answers, there would be no wonder left in the world. Because I have
to take care of myself before I can take care of anyone else. Because no one
says I have to want to all the time. Because my kids and my husband love me
anyway. Because I love me anyway.
It’s ok.
It’s all ok.
Happy Thursday,
Friends.
Is it ok that I absolutely love your blog? I think it is.
ReplyDeleteI think that's PERFECTLY Ok. =)
DeleteI LOVE it, especially the part about your little guy not giving in to peer pressure! What a stud! :)
ReplyDeleteThanks! He most definitely does things in his own time. Which is fine. with. me. (Most of the time) Thanks for reading =)
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