March 23, 2015

Your why, my why....Our why.

People are always commenting and giving their 2 cents on parenting. How hard it is. The sleepless
nights. The constant crying. The never-ending dependence of these little people who just cannot help themselves.

And we know this going into parenthood, I think. It's "easy" to prepare for the sleep deprivation, the perma-puke, the poopy diapers and even the colicky baby. We've been warned by generation after generation about how hard it's going to be. We get it.

But I think the part that no one can prepare you for, the part that is so difficult to describe in words, is the completely helpless feeling you get when your child is heart-broken and sad. We expect crying from just being an infant, or from the pain of a broken bone or scrape.Those things are "easy" to fix and kiss away. The part that no one really tells you about is when you've said or done something that completely breaks their ever-loving heart. When they look at you with those eyes, and you can literally see the hurt they're feeling. But it's a hurt you can't make better. Or if you can, you don't know how. It's a hurt that can really only get better with time. 

They come home feeling upset about a kid who made fun of them at school. They get down on themselves about making a mistake in class. They do something that you wouldn't be proud of and you show your disappointment and they are sad! They've let you down and they feel guilt and shame for that. And then there are the times when YOU do or say something and you can't take it back. You yell or scream because you're frustrated. You have to tell them someone close to them has died. These are the moments that are impossible to prepare for as a parent. 

Last night as I was tucking the boys in bed, I reminded them that I would be leaving early in the morning for a work trip until Tuesday night, and then leaving again Wednesday night to be gone until Sunday. I was laying by Elliot and he looked at my face with those eyes, and he said "I feel like I want to cry, mom." And I said "you can cry buddy, but I will be back. I promise! And you'll have dad. You don't have anything to worry about." And then his eyes welled up with tears, he wrapped his arm around my neck and began sobbing. At this moment, probably because of a ripple effect, Jack began to cry as well. And then MY eyes began to get wet.

I broke their hearts. There is a routine that we have and an expectation and me leaving throws everything off. I tried to explain WHY I had to go, and that I have to work. And I explained that I am doing it for them. But they're 5 and 7. And while they're intelligent people, kids want their parents there to love and protect them. And they weren't feeling that at this moment.

I know that I have to work. Their reactions to me leaving do not change the fact that we still need to have an income to provide for our family. BUT, their feelings, their broken-hearts, and their tears helped define WHY I'm builing a business that will allow me to be with them more. 

I had a bit of an "aha" moment last night. I was about to get on a call to speak to individuals about why Beachbody coaching has and will continue to change my life, and the opportunity it can provide for others, and just before the call, here I am laying in bed with my children, crying because I have to go on a work trip away from them.

And it hit me. I'm building this business for THEM. For US. My why can be described in one word: Family. 

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