Some days you wonder why you do all this parenting stuff. The tears, the boredom, the frustration, the yelling, the tantrums, the spew, the poo. A meal you've slaved over spat out. Being told: "I hate you!" and then "can you wipe my bum?"
The constant questions. The constant noise.
Being woken up every.single.night.
Being woken before the sun comes up.
Having your house trashed.
The responsibility. The guilt.
If it was anyone else you would've told them to hit the road along time ago.
And then one tiny glimpse. And your heart swells. And all it's all worthwhile.