He is enough
The day started with kids threatening me to do things their way, tears, cooking the breakfast that no one wanted and I cut someone’s strawberries instead of leaving them whole. It was a morning where 5pm seemed an eternity away and it felt like I would snap if one more kid screamed at me; as if I was a China tea cup delicately balanced on a ledge and even the utterance of my name would send me crashing to the floor. I took a deep breath, I sent the screaming child to his room for some quiet time, poured a bowl of cereal to occupy the other two and quickly checked my to-do list. I had to prioritize my desire to sink into my Instagram feed and pretend like life was beautiful, tidy and happy. I needed a moment to think clearly, to remember the truth of what the day was about, what the next minute was about and make a choice about what was actually needed. I wanted my idea of a perfect breakfast: three happy, grateful children eating and talking to me in quiet voices about the silly th...