some days, well, quite simply, it is hard.
not hard like when the queen and bear where small, or when bear was struggling with violence.
hard in that my 15 and 16-year-old still require a lot of time.
hard in that they are not your typical teens.
hard in that some days i am tired of poop.
so, why do i feel like i am failing in some way by admitting that it is a challenge some days?
to admit that i am tired.
to admit that i would love to be able to just sit and read or watch tv without thinking that i have to plan an activity for bear and queen, to wonder if i am doing enough, to think of bath times, dinner, exercise, interactions.
admit that maybe my normal is sometimes abnormal enough that i wish for a day of normal just to see what it would be like.
then i think of these things:
bear kissing pointing his fingers into a gun, kissing the tips, then shooting.
that queen likes to take a bath with this:
that she hates dogs and cats but checks books out at the library all the time about them.
that bear truly misses me when he is at school and is so happy every.single.day to see me when i get him.
i have to let myself admit that it is ok to say it is hard.
it is ok to tell people that yes, yes, i am tired.
it is challenging.
to admit that there are chinks in the armor i try very hard to keep up all the time and the past two days have made those chinks pretty large.
on a different note, i was able to get a pic with both queen and bear in the same frame, which is as elusive as nessie.