Before the end of the evening we set up the self timer on the camera and all got in for one group shot. We’re smiling and happy and there are incriminating red solo cups scattered across the counter. I hope someday my kids come across this picture and smile at the sight of their parents clearly having too much fun. I hope they’ll know just how hard and just how worth it it is to chase after a few hours of carefree fun with your friends. And I hope they’ll have their own thirty-something friends to be carefree with, in only for a few hours.
A few years ago I wrote a post about how I wasn't super thankful after Liam's first cochlear implant surgery. It was honest and true. I was encouraged to submit that piece to the awesome collaborative blog Coffee + Crumbs. I was conflicted about submitting it though because what was honest and true then, was no longer the truth now. So I added a little epilogue, an update on my thoughts and feelings about Liam's cochlear implant four years later. This updated essay is featured today on the Coffee + Crumbs site. I'd love it if you checked it out.
So I read the book cover to cover before Liam was born, subscribed whole heartedly to the method and felt super good and a little bit superior about all that sleep I was going to be getting and the non-convenient store robbing kid I was going to raise because I was committed to this particular method.
Our kids don’t need us to do it all. They need us to do the stuff that makes us come alive as parents, whether it’s getting out for adventures or creating beautiful crafts, cooking dinner together or homeschooling. I’ve learned from experience that crafts are not fun when mom is tense and short fused the whole time. Neither are adventures out. The kids won’t know the stuff you didn’t do with them. (They’re not on instagram. They don’t even know that making your own paint with cornstarch and food coloring is a thing.)