Adulting is hard. I remember wanting to be "grown up" when I was still a little girl. At some point, I decided that I would finally be grown up when I carried around a travel mug full of coffee. I think I was 17 when I realized that I had reached that point so I must be grown up, right? Oh, to be young and naive again.
A couple weeks ago, a good friend of mine lost his battle with cancer. Then another friend of mine had a minor heart attack. Then my mother was hospitalized with a heart scare. And, of course, we recently moved, have two small children, and all-the-other-adulting-things. Add a 4-year-old who has been refusing (but still desperately needs) nap time and a teething 1-year-old and you have one crazy exhausted, emotional mama.
A few nights ago, I simply could not take it any more. I had had a terrible parenting day in which I yelled at my child in a way that repulsed me simply because he wouldn't take a nap. After feeling guilty about how the day had gone, I broke down once the boys were in bed and I cried. I cried months worth of pent up tears. It was horrible and freeing and exactly what I needed. I'm still reeling from it all, but something I learned was this: it's important to feel. As a parent, it can be difficult to identify what you need when you are worrying about what everyone else needs.
And sometimes, adulting can only happen effectively if we let ourselves cry it out.
After the fog of my meltdown lifted, I made better parenting decisions and got my life in better order. By Friday night, I found myself surrounded by dear friends, feeling the opposite of stressed out, and really seeing the beautiful moments instead of the stressful ones.