worth it

Our days are busier, filled with a fussy newborn who will only nap while being held and a cranky toddler who melts down about oatmeal falling off his spoon (direct quote, minus the sobbing: "Why is this happening? Why? Why?!"). Our nights are longer, filled with a half dozen iterations of nurse/diaper/sleep-for-an-hour. It's inevitable that patience runs thin, temperaments turn moodier, and responses come out snippier.

And with these undesirable effects of straight-up weariness comes the guilt. The guilt from not being able to hold it together for one more irrational, unanswerable "Why??" The guilt from not being able to soothe the wailing baby. The guilt from just wanting to curl up in bed and sleep. The guilt makes you wonder if maybe you aren't really cut out for this, maybe you don't have what it takes, maybe you don't have what they need...

And then your two-year-old suddenly looks at you, looks at both you and your equally weary husband... He looks at his mommy and daddy and matter-of-factly says, "You're a good Mommy. And you're a good Daddy." And he finishes his oatmeal.

The days filled with putting out fire after fire are worth it. The nights filled with everything but sleep are worth it. These boys are utterly and completely worth it. And Jason and I, even sleep-deprived and grumpy and beat, are exactly what Lucas and Finley need and want.

Sometimes you just need a reminder: We are good parents. From the mouth of babes.

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