Tonight Nathan and I had a date in the driveway, sitting in the car with the sunroof open, and looking at the stars.
We talked about how hard things have been, how anxious we are about if the book is okay or if it will do well, and how quickly the children are growing and changing.
We brainstormed how to set limits and have good boundaries while also maintaining the nurture and the level of warmth we want to have with the children.
We cried about how hard it is to consecrate yourself, to sacrifice everything, to put it all on the line as an act of faith, and to hope you have just foolishly ruined the lives of all those around you.
It’s hard, to consciously live and actively parent.
It’s harder to do that well than it is to just keep them busy and quiet and out of the way.
They should be busy, and loudly playing happily, and practicing for life by making all kinds of messes.
We have made progress with fewer tantrums that don’t last as long and seem further and further apart and happen less often.
But also, sometimes it is just hard to have seven children pawing at me all day, hungry again as soon as they are fed, and all clamoring for help at once.
it is exhausting, no matter how cute they are.
It is a lot of hard work, especially for also feeling like maybe we aren’t very good at this.
But we are trying.
And they are trying.
And we can always try some more.
But mostly I am glad it’s Nathan’s hand that I hold under the stars, and ecstatic that it is those children sleeping in their beds.
This is us, with some days better than others, but always enduring together.