There are moments that make it all worthwhile. Moments that make you realise that even though you don't feel that you can cope, that it's still all really going to be ok. Some of those moments are easy to talk about. You can even brag about them. And then there are some moments that you probably don't want too many people to hear about. The moments that let you know that you're going to make it, but that would probably make everyone else think that an intervention might be in order.
There are many blog writers that are incredibly popular and that are still criticised for being too perfect, for coping too well. On occasion I have received emails and comments from people that believe that I flaunt an ability to do it all. Which is fair enough in many ways. Although not always appreciated. I don't generally blog about the days full of pain and tears and screaming. I don't often mention the absolute crap that seems to hit my fan on a daily basis. The arguments, the court cases, the people that seriously take the piss. So I can understand when people comment on how I make them feel like they're not trying hard enough, because unlike me (apparently) they don't look after two under fours full time, whilst running a business, creating a beautiful home, writing articles, editing magazines and making their children's clothes.
Of course, I don't expect people to know about the bad days, because most of the time, I ignore them on here. But yesterday? If you were a better person than me, yesterday would be a lock yourself in the bathroom and eat ice cream type of day.
Ice cream makes me ill though. So yesterday, just after lunch, I said "sod it" (in the interest of full disclosure I feel it only right to admit that I did not actually say the word 'sod'. The word that I used was an awful lot stronger and louder) and poured myself a glass of red wine.
Yes. In the middle of the day, in charge of two young children, I carelessly and recklessly poured myself a glass of wine. I then plugged the iPod in and turned 'Trouble' by Ray LaMontagne up full blast.
And this is the moment. The one that let me know that whilst an intervention may very well be in order, there is an outside chance that I will probably not throw myself off the nearest tall bridge.
Because, having just poured the wine and hit the volume button I was suddenly joined by the best two girls in the world, who grabbed a hand each, looked up at me and started dancing.
Which is what we did for the next 20 minutes. We danced and laughed and sang. And at one point I caught sight of us, reflected in the dirty oven door, and knew that if there was ever a moment in time that I should remember it was this one. Dancing in the middle of the day, with Bella and Lily, until we just could not dance anymore, trading hugs and kisses and spinning like whirling dervishes.
I don't know how it happens. How moments of completely overwhelming fear, turn in to moments of complete beauty, but thank god they do. Thank goodness that life just occasionally lets up for a minute or two.