Parenting Blog

Wisps of Hair and Dark Chocolate Truffles

Ice cream is always, always awesome. So is a dark chocolate truffle.  Filet Mignon with sauce Bearnaise rarely disappoints me.

Parenthood? The same cannot be said of you.

The bullshit drama of bath times, the frustration of more chewed toothbrush bristles, and spilling-over messes-of-everything-not-nailed-down makes me wish sometimes to be back in my Philadelphia apartment, broke and lonely.

Then I watch in a kind of cinematic slow motion the wisps of my youngest daughter’s banilla yogurt blonde hair dancing carefree underneath the ceiling fan’s breeze. And her cover girl-worthy eyelashes fluttering while her body gives way to another midday sleep.  She is perfect, every single part of her.  Perfect.

And at that exact moment I realize once again why I try so hard, smile so wide, cry so honestly, hug so tightly, and hate so much that I will never be THAT perfect.

At some point I’m going to let her down.  I’m gong to fail.  And no matter how much good credit I accumulate with both of my girls over the coming years, it’ll be my inability to be an always-dependable dark chocolate truffle that will haunt me.


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