Parenthood is unlimited flexibility and ready routine, the extinction of free time and the deferment of dreams, vacuuming Cheerios and scrounging in couch cushions for sanity and spare change -- all scattered with bursts of immense gratitude and absolute joy.
I don't mean to propagandize, to make believe that it's the opposite and that, mostly, parenthood is pure happiness peppered with sacrifice. I don't intend to make it sound like grace never passes over our house, like our days are full of perfection and our nights are full of sleep.
Fighting frustration and fatigue, sometimes I have to be deliberate to find joy in parenting.
But it’s there. It always is.
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