A Beautiful Mess

Yesterday, I took my 12 year old son shopping for a suit for my nephew’s upcoming bar mitzvah. He had filled out a little this summer, but I wasn’t at all expecting him to look the way he did - like a young man. My baby is growing up.

I’m sure all parents experience moments like this one. It sparks feelings of “when did this happen?”, and “did I do this right?” And yes, I had those feelings. But there was also a whisper of “how did I miss this? What else did I miss?”

I missed a lot when my kids were younger. I was working full-time in the city, at a job with ridiculously long hours. My daughter was just 6 months old when I started that job. I don't know what her first word was. I don't remember when she started walking.

When my son was born, I told myself it would be different. I was working from home by then, so I'd be around. And it was different, for a little while. I do have a few more memories from that time.

There's something about single parenthood that makes me feel like I'm missing things all the time, even if I'm not. It's there behind the strain of trying to manage a household by yourself. It's just beyond the frantic race to keep up with “regular” families. It's underneath the constant murmur that questions whether I can be enough.

There is no shame in having a day, or 2, or even a week where you "just can't". Where you don't clean the house and you don't do the laundry and you can't get any work done, but at the end of the day, your kids are alive and they know that you love them, and that is all you need to be the difference between success and failure.

We are not perfect, and life is not amazing. That's a lie that we tell ourselves to bandage the holes. Life is not good or even great. Life is messy. But there are some beautiful moments in the middle of the mess, and that makes the mess kind of wonderful.

Look for those moments. Watch for them. Create them. Don't be afraid of the mess.

There are many evenings where I throw my hands in the air and say “screw it all”, pull out some board games, and we have family game night. And maybe some homework doesn't get done, or the kid who refuses to shower stays dirty, and everyone goes to sleep late. But my kids will remember that we played games in the middle of the week, for no reason whatsoever. And suddenly, the mess is beautiful.

And maybe when we celebrate my son's bar mitzvah, or when I walk my daughter down the aisle, maybe I won't feel like I missed so much.