I talk about this whole parenting gig fairly frequently here and the thing about it all is that it's constantly changing. My kids are changing. I'm changing. And the demands of modern life are changing. All this change makes this parenting thing a quadruple-overtime-knock-me-on-my-butt kind of deal. And I'm not complaining.
Because good parenting should be a quadruple-overtime-knock-me-on-my butt kind of deal.
There are moments that aren't so shiny and happy. Like the waking before sunrise and the swirling and pushing around each other trying to locate socks and shoes and hats and gloves. And the impatience in my voice at the disorganization of it all.
But the post dawn reality of seeing my children run a 5K and my husband run a half marathon?
I thank this man for being my partner in this parenting journey. For pushing the girls in ways I wouldn't. For recognizing they are capable when I sometimes may not. For patiently allowing me to grumble about the pointlessness of getting up before the sun does so I can stand out in the freezing cold. And knowing at his very core that I'll be so filled up inside because I did.
I'm lucky to be part of this well oiled machine of a family of mine.