Life is good. I feel like I've entered a part of parenthood that is roses and hazy sunshine most of the time. Parker is in my favorite baby stage. The 18 Month Old. He's funny, clumsy, silly, and cuddly. Sure he throws tantrums, kicks his feet while I change his diaper, and throws food everywhere, but I wouldn't trade this age for anything. Leah's at a great age too. She's a willing helper, protective sister, and concerned and playful friend.
If I'm upset in the evenings it's usually of my own making. I've put too many time constraints on myself and all of the sudden the kid's antics become stifling. Not their fault. I'm too lazy to think about dinner and all of the sudden the kid's hungry tummy complaints becomes incessant whining. Not their fault. My schedule is hectic therefore, if those toys aren't picked up off the floor I'll probably throw them away. Not their fault (ish).
For the last little while I've been trying to better myself as a mother. My sister-in-law commented recently that it isn't that I don't have time to (for instance) take my kids to the park, but being a mom is what time exists for. Recently for a young women activity we put together character studies of individuals in the scriptures. The individual I chose was Emma Smith. I've thought so much about how much she must treasure being a mother. Loss of life, extreme trial and hardship, not to mention a husband that was... well, Joseph Smith. Those things wouldn't have made her a worse mom, they would have made her better. She probably didn't yell at her children when they were making small obnoxious noises (even though I've told them a million times not to). I have a demanding calling in church right now. And it's very important that I attend to that calling. However, it should never be constantly at the expense of my family. Balance. Balance is what it's all about. Unfortunately I feel that as soon as I find a good balance, something else gets added to the scale and I have to switch it all up again.
I'd say I love this season of life.