Mothering is hard.

I don't feel particularly inspired today. I was worn down by the end. Inside my brain was getting dark and scary. I had the sinking feeling that I'm doing this all wrong.

The thing about mothering is that I have always felt it was a calling for me. From the day I laid eyes on my oldest, I knew what I was made for.

Sometimes, I forget, though. Every day we get up, we eat, there is a lot of crying, a lot of sibling arguing, a lot of struggle, there is some reading and school work, more eating, more school, we clean some things, we get outside, eat some more, clean some more, we go to bed. Motherhood is kind of, well... monotonous. A lot of the time. Sometimes there is less crying and arguing. Sometimes we go places.

I don't mean that to sound bad. There is a lot of beauty in the ordinary and everyday. But it is sometimes hard to see it through all the diapers and food crumbs.

Little hands that still want to hold mine help.