I Can Do Hard Things

Some days I think this mothering gig is just too hard.

I think being a stay-at-home mom is too hard.

Living in rural Alaska is too hard.

But then I remember I can do hard things.

So I take a deep breath and carry on.

This was especially true last month when I was struggling with anxiety.

I was sure I couldn't carry on, but I did.

"On and on you will hike, and I know you'll hike far,

and face up to your problems, whatever they are."

-Dr. Suess

{A little childhood inspiration is just perfect sometimes.}

There are days when I don't want to get out of bed, wash the dishes or do school with the boys.  There are days when I am not enthusiastic about making dinner from scratch, having to bake my own bread of roll my own tortillas.  But duty calls, and so I do these things. I go through the motions. 

And I find that it's true. I can do hard things.  I can stretch the last bag of flour, I can make three pb&j sandwiches while the boys fight over who gets to sit by daddy at lunch, and I can, at the end of a long day, bathe all three children by myself and not lose my mind.

And every time I successfully push through those feelings of exhaustion & failure, I find myself standing taller, feeling prouder.  I did it.  And the next time, it's easier to do those hard things.

Yesterday was one of those days. By mid-afternoon I was in tears over a sink full of dishes.  Sobbing for no reason other than I had had a long night followed by a longer day, and my reserves were empty.  When I finally finished the dishes and stopped crying, I sat down at the kitchen table to do a puzzle with Jack.  We talked a little bit.  He said when I cry he feels a little bit sad in his tummy.  

Oh sweet boy.  

I woke up dreading today, but I know better than to think I'll ever have two days that are the same in a row.  I just need to take a deep breath and remember that whatever the day brings,

I can do hard things.