As I am trying to get a minute to myself, I see my three-year-old daughter’s fingers wiggling under the bathroom door. I burry my head in my hands, trying to decide whether to cry or laugh.  The lack of alone time gets to me sometimes. 

I am nothing like the parent I thought I would be.  The truth is, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to be one.  Too much work and not enough reward I thought!  But things change and here I am, 46, mother of two.  

The parent I thought I would be once I became pregnant, trains her kids to sleep in. The parent I am loves smelling the sweet scent of her daughter’s skin during early morning snuggles.

The parent I thought I’d be loves nice gifts on special occasions. The parent I am melts from handmade bunny plates and mugs with big orange heart on it (because my boy knows orange makes me happy)!

The parent I thought I’d be reads her favorite book while her kids play quietly, but the parent I am spends the afternoons gripping a baseball field fence, cheering her son on.

The parent I thought I’d be has perfectly behaved children, never raises her voice, and has it all under control.  She gives it her all and feels accomplished at the end of the day.  The parent I am spends days juggling chores, homework, painting rocks, building fairy gardens yet still feels like she is falling short on all accounts, daily.

But that’s the thing.  Nothing is as you thought it would be and yet, there is so much more!  Grace, forgiveness, hidden life lessons, unconditional love despite daily failures and disappointments, unexpected cuddles, and…laugh and giggles…lots of it…like when you see their little fingers wiggle under the bathroom door.