Parents, you’ve got questions, we’ve got answers.

Or just as likely, we’ve got questions and you’ve got answers.

Challenge: Stretched Too Thin

When the gray just won't go away

Vote up!
Share on Facebook Share on Twitter Email this article


I’ve lost count how many days this week have been gray, rainy, and raw - just like I’ve lost count how many days now I have woken with similar weather in my heart and in my brain.

Today I woke with hope in my heart that the sun would make its appearance and start to warm up all the cold

It didn’t.
The coldness was still there - inside and out.

I took a deep breath in and focused my ears to see if I could hear even a faint whisper of hope from some brave little bird announcing that things would soon be better.

I couldn’t.
All I could hear was the sadness and the rain.

I closed my eyes and steadied my thoughts to try to find the good in the world - the good that always exists even in the bleakest of times. But as soon as I picked up my phone and took stock of the state of things, the good started fading away. I tried to hold tightly and will it to stay.

It wouldn’t.
The negativity rang louder than the positivity just like most other days lately.

And so, instead I did the things that often counteract the world when it is gray and cold and drowning me.

I tried to protect myself from the stormy elements - inside and out. Like an umbrella protecting me from the rain, I turned inward and hoped it would be enough to help me avoid the words and weather that would sting me.

It wasn’t.
Like side swept rain which is no match for even the biggest umbrella, the storm found me anyways.

I enveloped myself in things that usually make me feel warm and safe, like weather proof boots and a warm rain jacket. I tried to rely on external comforts to make me feel full and strong enough to withstand the storm.

They didn’t.
I still felt weak and powerless and cold.

I decided all I could was my best.

I could do my best to stay standing.
I could do my best to not let myself break completely.
I could do my best to hang on to at least a tiny shred of hope.
I could do my best to believe that at some point the sadness and hopelessness and frustration and coldness will pass.
I could do my best to just keep going.

And so, I did.

Because I know eventually the clouds will run out of rain and the ugliness will move on again.

And eventually, the sun and the warmth and light and hope that come with it will return.

It always will.

This post comes from the TODAY Parenting Team community, where all members are welcome to post and discuss parenting solutions. Learn more and join us! Because we're all in this together.