While I loved those young years of motherhood, I wouldn’t want to go back.  I like my sleep.  Children that are toilet trained.  A world without temper tantrums.  A world without other children being hit by mine.  But sometimes, when I see what’s on the horizon, I wish I could trade the parenting struggles I face now with the ones I faced not so long ago.

It’s not that parenting was easier then. No matter the phase, it’s always hard.  What’s changing is the simplicity of how I have to parent.  

A few years ago, many of my parenting challenges were resolved by simply committing to follow through.  To be consistent. I was tested.  I got frustrated.  But most of the lessons I had to teach required few words. It was the “less is more” approach.

Now, few words are not always enough. Many life lessons require lots of words, examples, explanations.  I get asked questions.  I get comments.  It’s more complicated.  Lately, I find that when I walk away, I am left wondering if I am doing this mothering thing right.

Sometimes, at night, when I sneak in to check on Little Guy and Big Guy, I feel as though I am living someone else’s life.  

I look at these growing boys, with limbs hanging off the side of the bed, and wonder when this happened.  How I got all this responsibility.  And how I am supposed to do “it”.

“It” being make the right choices, the correct decisions. To lead by example.

“It” being figure out the daily, million dollar questions that surface.  The ones that I overanalyze, as if the fate of the world will be determined by my answer.  Or at least the fate of my children.

It’s a game where I replay the day.  Recalling the effort I put into trying to be smart.  Act relatively fair.  And think fast.  All at the same time. All the while, wondering if I did too much damage.

In those quiet moments, in the dark, motherhood overwhelms me. It fills my brain with questions.  Second guesses. And doubt. It’s easy to feel insecure when I remember those two sets of eyes gazing upon me, waiting to be given the right answers. Answers that aren’t always easy to speak.  Answers that sometimes require creativity. Or honesty they may not be ready to hear.  

Fortunately, this insecurity seems to be driven by the night.  At the time, it seems endless.  It causes me to lie in bed, creating problems, writing mental lists, making new promises and new plans.

And then, the sun comes up.  And I get my mother mojo back.  

When it comes back, I can give myself a break. In the morning, it’s easy to believe that I can start fresh and forgive myself for not always knowing the perfect solution.  

Perhaps this is why parenting takes nearly 18 years.  If we are lucky, our children love us so blindly that we are given endless second chances.  We can start over.  Try again.

Along the way, we are reminded that even when we think we don’t know the answers, we do.  At least for our own children. It may just take some time for those answers to be discovered.

It is always darkest before dawn.

Illyse appears Thursdays on TriangleMom2Mom.