Sometimes I miss my husband so much. Especially on the weekend nightshifts. I remember when Saturday night meant dinner or going out or a party, rather than solo parenting and television.
Sometimes I think I am not doing a terribly stellar parenting job at all.
Sometimes I am so tired I don't know how I will make it through dinner, baths and bedtime by myself.
Sometimes I miss the relationship we used to have, where conversations didn't revolve around therapies, school, child care and discipline issues.
Sometimes I remember a life before children with my rose coloured glasses on.
Because sometimes it is hard.
But sometimes I look at my children and am in awe of the people we have created.
Sometimes I remember that this too shall pass, and in years to come I will look back on these days fondly as well.
Sometimes I could weep with gratitude for the sacrifices my husband makes to support our family.
Sometimes I know that one day it will be just us again, and we will appreciate it all the more for having had the particular challenges that we do.
Sometimes it is hard. Always it is worth it.