I have, on more than one occasion, referred parenting as 'in the trenches'. Parenting is not easy. I mean, think about it:
We are supposed to protect our child from harm while teaching them to be adventurous and try new things. We're not supposed to spank them (obviously) but some think we shouldn't ever yell at them either but we're supposed to teach them about safety- like "My little angel-face, please don't reach for that hot pan on the stove." Unlikely. We're going to say "NO!" and then explain, bla bla hot bla bla not safe. We're supposed to teach them not to throw tantrums or whine when they don't get what they want but you're also (especially with boys) supposed to teach them to embrace the full range of their emotions.
We love them and shower them with affection and praise whenever we can, but we don't want to give in to their every request and appease them all the time. We should run to them when they get hurt but also teach them to pick themselves up and dust themselves off.
Teaching the tiny humans to become big humans is an incredibly hard job. It's love. It's a battlefield.
I have not been fabulous at this really difficult job. I take that back. I'm a great mother and I'm proud of how I'm raising my kids, but it doesn't mean I don't find it all to be incredibly trying.
In yoga we understand that the divine, the universal, God is in everything. The flower that is just starting to bloom, when your toddler says "I love you, you're my best friend." when a baby smiles at you for the first time. The divine is also in the 3am crying fit, the tantrum, the eye-roll. I was in yoga class last night when I realized this. Last night's long drawn out wake up wasn't exactly fun but by remembering that there is something divine in this moment helped it not become a source of great frustration.