I can't do this, but I'm doing it anyway

Tucker had a break from school on Monday in observance of Presidents Day.
It became clear to me that the kindergartners discussed the significance of the holiday as Tuck rattled off facts that, had they ever been in my brain, no longer camped there.  He was recounting information about each of the presidents on Mount Rushmore, and I mentioned that Abe Lincoln is credited with one of my favorite quotes: Whatever you are, be a good one.
He cocked his head and said with quick confidence, "Or, if you're bad, you can keep trying."

Falling short is part of life, the possibility of failure is part of what makes things matter even more.
Tuck's five, and he's already got that figured out.

He woke up sick this morning, and I wavered about how sick.  Suck it up sick or legit sick?  I kept him home.  I know what really sick is, but I don't have a lot of experience with plain sick.  And I have a little anxiety about making the wrong decision.

I’m not good at this, I thought.  And then I remembered that sentence is a damaging lie to staple to myself.  My mom used to say that adding the word yet could make it better.  I'm not good at this yet.
I wonder if I will ever feel entirely competent.  I'm not sure parenting will ever get easier.  It might get better, but only because I might get better at it.  Maybe.  There’s still an awful lot of wtfamidoing.

Most days my brain moves at the speed of dial-up internet, only slower.  Wipe the counter, wipe the bum, unload the dishwasher, load the car.  There is art in what I’m doing, I know, raising kids and navigating faith and fueling romance and succeeding sometimes and failing a lot and trying to write some of it down.  I do have certain things figured out, like I know to be a little less concerned with the meals I feed my kids than with the truths I’m feeding them.
Tuck's got a good handle on the gospel of never give up, and when my tentacles are unable to take care of all the boys' needs, I know I can always keep trying.