Excuses. Those of us who parent young children are good at making them.
Perhaps too good.
Two days ago, we invited a family over for dinner. I was tired. My husband was tired. And we literally finished a yoga class right before our guests arrived.
But, the thing is, we REALLY wanted to spend time with these friends.
I don’t know if it arises from the fact that my husband and I both work full-time or it’s our own “we have small children” malaise, but I have to fight the urge to retreat often.
Anything extra on the calendar feels like too much. And the cooking, cleaning, and “get yourself presentable” routine just exhausts me to consider.
But we did it…even if we didn’t get a shower.
And there always seems to be this moment where things don’t go as planned – sacrifices for the sake of community.
The warning seemed to shake the walls – at least internally. Our three children in the room beside us had been “playing nice” for approximately 20 unsupervised minutes.
But then I saw it. The black marker. The pink shorts. My daughter’s haphazardly tattooed legs.
In that moment, I understood the true cost of connection in early parenthood. And I knew life was presenting two choices: cling to the ghost of easy friendship or embrace the mess of trying to be a parent AND a friend.
One day later, that marker – still visible on my daughter – reminds me that you never regret investing time in people.
And that, every now and then, you need to marvel at what you can’t control.
One Year Ago: Happy Trails