Accepting defeat, but only for a moment

Two posts in one day--it's been awhile. Tonight was the kind of night where the girls fought over which popsicle to buy at the grocery store only to come home and fight about who got to take Birdie upstairs and what show to watch, which was followed by a 5 year old hitting Tim and getting sent to timeout (where epic wailing ensued) followed by pink toothpaste being dropped on the white carpet because "someone made me do it" conversations followed by early termination of shows and a quick bedtime routine with a stern reminder not to open the door until 6:30 followed by lots of deep sighs by two exhausted parents.

Everyone has nights like these regardless of whether you are married or single, have a handful of children or are kidless, or use mint or bubblegum toothpaste. There are just nights where things go from complete control to utter chaos without any warning. And in the thick of it, you feel like giving up. And sometimes you do. We did tonight. We accepted defeat with all the grace two tired parents could and shut that bedroom door as quickly as possible so as to avoid any further complications. It doesn't mean tomorrow's bedtime will be the same. We will, most likely, not give up tomorrow. Story time will be drawn out longer, songs will be sweeter, and hugs will be tighter, and I can't wait until then.

Want to know something silly, perhaps even stupid, even though that word is not used in this house? I miss my girls. It's been 2.5 hours since we closed their door and all I find myself doing when I'm not editing is thinking about the way they smiled while we made energy balls this afternoon or the way Birdie laughed when she stood up in her chair, knowing I was about to point my finger and ask her to sit down, which she completely ignored or the way Mya cuddled into my body as we read the final chapters of Roald Dahl's "The BFG."

Although chaos makes the very fibers of my being unravel, after the dust has settled, I can appreciate it because it makes me enjoy the peaceful moments that much more. Life is a beautiful, unexpected ride. I'm grateful for the stage we are currently in; I know I'll miss it when it's gone. Perhaps that's why I've been writing more lately. I want to cement memories into my mind.