Though I have running, and comics, and paranormal romance, and Bones, I still feel as if I am going through the motions some days. The harried mornings when I have about 35 minutes to: feed Isaac, wake Elliot and get him into school clothes, take the dogs out and feed them, change Isaac – and he’ll inevitably upchuck some milk and we’ll have ANOTHER outfit change – and then get everyone in the car along with my school bag, breastpump, and let’s not forget my coffee and cereal bar… well, I feel like I’ve worked an entire day in half an hour.

On NPR this morning on Tell me more Michelle Martin was sitting with a group of women who were all mothers. They discussed various things but one of them was spawned from this one woman’s book about being a parent and not being happy. (Her name is Jennifer Senior, if you’re interested. Turns out she was on the Today Show the day after I started this post.) As if the children would “make” you happy, she argued that the more children that people have the more depressed they are, statistically. Her whole tagline was “I love my kids but I hate my life.” It would seem that the ladies being interviewed disagreed. Most women going into parenthood understand that not all aspects of parenting are going to please you. The diapers and spitting up and tantrums… none of that is that fun. None of that is even rewarding. But the fact that your kids make you laugh… the fact that as they grow, they become better people and people who you can talk to. It’s the reward in the long run that matters.

But something they brought up is how little credit parents get for raising good kids, kids that’ll some day be running our country… at least participating as upstanding citizens anyway. And in fact, there are times when parents seemed shunned for having kids, like at a restaurant when somebody looks over at your table because your kid might say something a little bit louder, a little less inside voice than that other diner would like. And you want to remind said patron that at one point they were a kid and were probably loud at restaurants too. Oh and to cut them some slack because kids are unpredictable at best.

I admit to seeking approval and validation when it comes to parenthood. Lord knows little kids can’t tell you how much they appreciate you and sometimes it’s grating, it’s unbearably sad. But it comes through in the times when Elliot will tell me an unsolicited “I love you” or reach out and grab my hand when we’re watching TV. like they say, it’s all worth it in the end.

This morning, daycare called and the class bully apparently pulled Elliot’s arm then pushed him down. Elliot has a tendency to cry like a pansy even if he’s not hurt so it’s hard to tell when it’s serious. This appears to be semi-serious. He cannot raise him arm without wailing. But it doesn’t seem to be broken or dislocated. Ash is going to get him now and hopefully get him into Urgent Care soon. (Our pediatrician had no appointments today.) It’s times like these where the plateau of parenting takes a turn – down, obviously – and we’re back to that roller coaster of ups and downs and corkscrews, loops, and even times where the ride malfunctions and stops; of course only when you’re upside down. And before you know it, the gears start turning again and your car begins to move, rendering you back to the start platform, back to normalcy.