I'm sorry

I sit outside your bedroom door and I can hear your anger.
I can hear the fight still in you.
Our fight.
The one that we just had.
The one that left us cold and disconnected.
The one that left us feeling alone.

And so,
I say it.
I say after I have lost
my temper
my mind
their trust.
I say it on my knees, eye to eye with little scared faces that I created.
I say it, meaning every word.
I didn't mean to yell, I didn't mean to make you angrier.
I didn't want to see you cry.
I didn't want this to escalate out of control.
I should have given more attention,
I should have given you more time,
I should have given more...of me.
But instead, I let life get in the way again.
I let my temper and my tired dictate my words.
I let you down, and I can see it all over your face.
Because I'm suppose to be the one you can always count on to build you up, and instead, I brought you down.
So now, I offer my apology.
My sincere regret of that moment, that day.
I ask if you want to start over but what I really mean is, let's have a do over.
Because I want to start over too.

I make mistakes,
a lot of them.
I make them every day.
Personally, professionally, as a bride, as a mom, as a friend.
I am closer to 40 than I am to 30 and I am still growing up, still figuring this out.
Can you imagine that?
I know you think that by now, I should have it together.
I know that you think that by now, I should know what to do,
but I don't.
We are all making this up as we go along.
And because of that, I am going to fail you a lot.

You see, of all the things you learn about being a parent,
of all the things that they teach you or try to prep you for.
There is too much to share,
or some things are so embarrassing that people think it shouldn't be shared.

Things like the mistakes,
the arguments,
the times you feel like a failure,
what parenthood can do to marriage,
what it can do to a life
a person.

But you two, you weren't a mistake.
You weren't even a surprise.
You were wanted, and you didn't ask to be here.
You found us because we asked for you.
And, it's not your fault that I'm tired.
It is not your fault that exhaustion has made it hard to hold my head up,
difficult to see straight.
It is not your fault that my head pounds,
that I need time.
It's not your fault that work isn't going well, or that dad and I are arguing.
You just got stuck in the cross fire.

Some people, like your dad, they didn't realize that they even had a temper until they had kids.
But, I always knew and was very aware of mine.
I could see it creep up all of the time and the one thing I did know going into parenthood was that
I have to learn to control it or it will break us.
And so my little faces,
I am sorry.
I am sorry for the short temper.
I am sorry for the stubborn gene that I have passed on.
I am sorry for the yelling,
I am sorry for your tears.

I am human and I will fail again.
But I love you both with an intensity that cannot be explained.
Each and every time I let you down, I will always find the strength to say,
I am sorry.

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