Dear Reese,
I am teary and tired today for reasons that have nothing to do with you. Too much work. Too much going on. Just too much, some days.
It is always easy to be your mama, but sometimes it is hard to parent (to cook dinner, to get the laundry out of the dryer, the logistics of it all) when you just want to sink into bed and be maudlin.
For the most part, you are patient with my distraction this evening. We go outside after dinner — it’s windy and chilly — but you walk around the big parking lot and pick up leaves. My body settles a bit. Some quiet outside time with just me and my little girl is just what I need.
When we’re back inside, I still feel that stupid bubbling of tears (and you’re fussing), so I pick you up and put you on the guest bed and let myself cry into the pillow next to you for a moment. But then you think me sticking my head in the pillow is a game and start playing and laughing, and then I’m playing too, how could I not?
Still, I skip the few chores I have left — your sippy cup unwashed, the clean laundry on my bed unfolded — and head straight for the shower. The chores can happen after I’ve scrubbed off this day and gotten into my sweatpants.
Love,
Mama