“You’re Going To Miss This”

As I set here typing, my noise canceling headphones drowning our my daughter’s cries, I know without a doubt that we have entered the ‘terrible twos’. I’ve got a glass of wine to my left, 1 tequila & soda in my blood, and lingering guilt because I didn’t brush her teeth or put her in pajamas. It was a long day at work (the 7th in a row), I’m PMSing, and if we’re being honest I’m in straight up survival mode tonight. Keep the tiny human alive. That’s your only goal for the night.

There’s a brief pause after this paragraph between songs, and immediately Ellie’s piercing scream envelopes me. I check the monitor – she’s laying down and clearly exhausted. “Let her settle” I tell myself, yet still I feel guilty for wanting to do something for myself more than wanting to comfort her. I know she doesn’t need to be comforted – she’s never been a cuddly baby. Going in there would actually disrupt her routine, yet still I feel guilt. I finish my glass of wine and breathe deeply: “there’s no way I’m going to miss THIS.”

…said every toddler mom THAT EVER EXISTED. I’ll miss her angelic voice and infectious giggles. I’ll miss her baby soft, hint of red hair curling around her ears. I’ll miss her cute little baby butt and sloppy kisses, but you can’t tell me that I’ll miss moments like this:

{her and I both exhausted to the point of tears. Me with equal parts crushing guilt and my last fuck in the wind. Cursing my husband for working nights. Promising myself we are NOT having any more children. Yea – one of those nights.}

I’ve spend the entirety of 2020 pushing for personal/spiritual growth. I started this year determined to prioritize my mental heath first, my family second, and my career third. Prior to that it’s always been the inverse: work, family, me (if there’s anything left – ha!). I made this mental shift after experiencing burn out and realizing that I wasn’t fully present for my daughter’s first year of life. I was having too many survival mode nights – nights like tonight. And what I realize is that although 2019 was my hardest year yet, I look back on it fondly.

The revelations that I’ve recently come to wouldn’t have been possible without my previous suffering. Every sleepless night and miserably long commute brought me closer to my higher self. It gave me a crystal clear picture of what I didn’t want in my life, therefore catapulting my toward what I truly valued. Had I not been pushed to my breaking point I would have never broken down; broken it all down in order to build something new.

And in this moment I remind myself that I will miss this exhausting night so very much one day…maybe in 1 year or maybe in 10. I’ll look back and smile at the memory of being vulnerable and starting a blog. I’ll remember how precious Ellie sounds saying “buh bye, now” when she’s upset. Baby shark will play back in my mind and I’ll envision how thrilled my daughter was to see her shark Halloween costume.

I’ll look back one day and pray for another survival mode night as a healthy 30 year old woman, with healthy parents and in-laws and best friends that live within a few hours of me. I know that these things listed above can’t last forever. I’m at the age where I realize that my parents aren’t immortal and come to think of it, I’m no spring chicken either. I miss being as ‘fat’ as I thought I was when I was 25. I miss cramming for exams at Alderman Library in college even though you better believe I was NOT happy to be there at the time. Much like I’m NOT happy when I’m having a really rough night in my 30s. But I’ll miss it one day. I know that.

The thing about life is that the rough moments are what MAKE you. The good days are great of course. But the bad days? That’s when you have to dig deep into your soul. You have to knock on God’s door and say “Hey, I’m struggling. Can you guide me? Can you help me grow from this?”. It’s when you lean on your best friend and facetime them just to cry so someone can sit in the pain with you…because sitting with the pain alone is scary. Those are the moments that you’ll miss because those are the moments when you’re vulnerable, and when you’re vulnerable there is an opening for love and growth and so much gratitude.

When I hit my breaking point at the end of 2019 I was incredibly vulnerable. I had a huge gaping spot in my soul begging for substance. I wanted to fill my soul with all of the good things in life, and I found myself prioritizing love above all else. On days like today where I’m struggling to get by, I remember to fill that vulnerable space with the grace and gratitude. I express gratitude for the personal growth that will come from this and I practice patience with myself. In my darkest days I remind myself that ‘you’re going to miss this’. And I believe it.