The parenting tide. Waiting for days on the shore.

I haven't written in a while, well a while for me anyway. I've sat down and started a number of times and tried to write, but that is so not me. Therefore I look at the screen, press delete, and think to myself that I've just wasted my time.

Usually what I write flows out of me. It's like I can barely stay in touch with the real world, or can't type fast enough to keep up with my thoughts.

And then nothing.

And I know why. It's because my head has been all over the place and I couldn't seem to maintain a clear thought for any length of time.

The tide of parenting came in and left me unable to touch the bottom for a while there. As a parent I know this happens and will continue to happen. It never gets any easier though, even if I can see the tide coming in.

Now, after all the too-much, I can feel myself leaving the water and walking towards the shore. Prayer and knowing the one who made my precious little ones to begin with, who chose to give them to me for a reason, all the time knowing I would never be perfect for them, has helped me stay afloat and drift back to where I need to be.

As I stand and watch the tide go quietly out, as I have done all too many times before, I know deep down it will not be the last time. With a heavy heart, I tell myself I will be back out there again, unable to touch the bottom, desperate to find the shore. I'm not sure if I will ever get used to it, but I do know I will get though it.

Because they are worth it.

Every hard decision. All the worry and prayer. Every tear shed. The I-just-can't-do-this or God-you-picked-the-wrong-person moments. And the times where there is no answer but to just be there.

It is all worth it, this parenting thing.

Because it just is.

Smiles and hugs and thank yous and amazing achievements, yes. But oh so much more.

The coming to me in tears. The revealing of huge and tiny worries. The telling of hard truths realised, like sport-equals-popularity-and-that-will-never-be-me or I-will-never-be-the-one-awarded. The asking for tricky advice. The I-just can't-cope-anymore meltdowns. The words that are too hard to say but are said anyway. The fears too hard to face. The everyday looks and devotion that add up to a life together, imperfect, but honest and together through it all. The good. And the in-between.

Being that person to whom all can be trusted is such an amazing blessing. Hard. But a blessing just the same.

Sitting here, alone, with Craig working his final shift before a glorious month of holidays, I know I can see many days of happiness on the sand for our family. With no outside influences telling me what to think or feel about my children on the horizon, I am willing myself to make it through the final days before they are all mine again.

Yes, I'm looking forward to fun and adventure and quiet and love and loud and too much and amazing. But that all presents in reality as that familiar life-altering feeling that I long for. The feeling of enough.

Enough.

Content to just be.

Three days and the outside world can be pushed away for a little while so we can be us. Just us. Simple, unjudged and the real who-we-are.

I can hardly wait.

Let the countdown begin.

Jen.x