I only have two hands.

There are days that life is perfect and there are days where I want to crawl into a hole and just disappear. When Elliott is a challenge, when he fights me with every single grain in his body, I absolutely shrink into a shell of a human. I never planned on being a single mom. Yeah, he has his father in his life…but when he is here, I am alone. I only have two hands.

Life is chaos. Three dogs. A house. A two year old. Work. A basement remodel that doesn’t seem to ever end. And now I have a two year old who has to wear a hearing aid. If anyone has ever tried to put a hearing aid into the ear of a stubborn, strong willed two year old, then you know what I am talking about. The screaming. The fighting. The hitting. I only have two hands.

I feel like sometimes no matter what I do, in work or life, I am expected to be more than me. I am expected to do more. Be more. People often forgetting that I am one person. Part of that is my fault. I don’t like letting people down. I don’t like coming across like I don’t have it all under control.  Thats how I have always gotten through life. Don’t let them see you sweat. Don’t let them know that you have a weakness under all of the strength.

At the end of the day, I am never going to be able to pull it all off. So when I am sitting on my couch, struggling with flailing two year old arms, tears running down his (and my) face…I just have to remind myself that I only have two hands.

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