Acceptance
I hear my children's laughter downstairs. They laugh, and have fun with each other whether or not I am with them. I imagine the parents who tell me how different it is with an empty nest, how time flies, and how quiet it gets. I'm years away from an empty nest. For now I'm thankful at their raucous, although most often than not, I'd be hushing them. But at this particular moment I am thankful. I've realized that my kids continue to be themselves in front of me. It hit me that they accept me despite my crabbiness, like it's no big deal. While here I am digging me a hole of depression, believing that I've ruined them. My doubt in my mothering skills, and lack of confidence is probably doing them more harm than all these thoughts that I've worked myself up. I guess the reason why I can be critical with them is because I'm failing to see the good in me. Time to cut myself some slack.