I’m sitting in the bathroom, watching Kid Pilgrim play in the tub. It’s not his regular bath time right now. But he did just throw up orange juice with banana bits on the couch, the floor, and my feet. So, he gets tubby time, and I get to clean up vomit and try to not add to the mess myself.
I was frustrated for a moment because it’s been a trying day. He and his brother both have colds, won’t sleep for long stretches, and Kid Pilgrim just wants to watch the same dvd over and over again. I have classes to prep for, quizzes to grade, and I want to eat everything in the house. But I can’t do things on my time so much anymore. And as I’ve written over and over, I’ve been fighting for my own space and time for the last 2 1/2 years.
What’s been happening more and more, though, is that I’m accepting that I’m not in control of my life so much anymore. I allow myself to be frustrated for a few minutes, and then I focus on how incredibly lucky I am. Sure, cleaning up vomit sucks, but it could be worse. Instead of just a cold, my kids could have something much more serious. I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’m blessed to be the mom of two awesome boys. I get to watch them grow up and navigate life. I’m the one (for a while, anyway) that they’ll run to for hugs and kisses on boo-boos (both real and imaginary). Right now, I may get irritated when Kid Pilgrim wants me to kiss his toe, but there will come a day when I’ll miss that. So, I’m enjoying those moments while I can, vomit and all.