I started yesterday aimed at documenting little snippets throughout our day. Messy bed, made bed, the girls' toys, Mila babywearing and Mila and I thinking it was a great idea to stick a party hat on Dani's head 'cause we can. And because she's patient with us crazies. That sort of thing. I started out enthusiastically enough and then the pictures slowed down to a trickle as real life got in the way. The really meaty moments were left uncaptured. The way my friend's sweet son was riding Chamois in the living room, and then Sarah said You cannot ride the dog next to your sister and we both laughed at some of the things we find coming out of our mouths these days. Me scarfing down a six-grain croissant while driving because that was the first chance I'd gotten to eat all day, and realizing I had not locked the front door. Holding Mila's hand as she screamed while trying to go to the bathroom. I know, far from glamorous but it's what makes me a mom. These are my days, and I don't apologize. Some days are filled with things and people and activities and leave me exhausted, and other days are more mundane and there's a lot of Mila please drink some water, simple talks about choices and consequences (oh the 2's!), cheering on Dani as she starts to crawl, and starting a million different tasks while completing none. Those days leave me exhausted also ;) but good. Good with some rough moments, that's how I'd describe it. Sometimes a lot of rough moments and other times I'm all, I've got this, world! and then I'm usually humbled again. Yesterday I read inspiring, powerful words on my instagram feed via joyprouty (she's amazing!): "hope your day is filled with enjoying your little ones instead of feeling the heaviness of guilt or frustration." I relate to this so much. When I am frustrated towards Mila (or towards a non-sleeping Dani at 3 am), what I am left with is guilt. Guilt over my lack of patience and the poor example I'm setting while I am being watched and emulated at all times. Worry that Mila doesn't see by my actions how much I love being her mama. I tell her every night, but I pray that deep down inside she knows this already. Enjoy them. In 20 years' time all of these rough patches are going to be a distant memory, a blur, smoothed over like a stone. And what I won't give to be able to nap with my arms draped around Dani, as I do now, or to have Mila calling my name before 7 am, can you play with me? in her sweet Mila voice. Enjoy them and try to be gentle on myself in the times when I come up short. That's what I pray for each night.