I’m not trying to be all dramatic or anything, I just find myself saying that to The Boy a lot these days.

“Honey, sometimes shit is hard.”

Yep. Just like that.

Because it is.

And when he’s crying because his knee hurts, and I’m telling him he needs to make it up the hill so we can catch our bus–when I really want to bike all the way home–what else can I say other than, that sometimes shit is hard?

I also tell him that these challenges don’t have to be so hard. That it’s all in your perception. You can push through the pain to get where you need to go. Just a little bit further. You can do it. I’m proud of you for being so tough. These challenges prepare you to handle for life and the bigger challenges that will inevitably greet you one day.

And sometimes I feel bad because we only have so much time for stalling before I start to get really conscious of the time ticking away and the possibility of missing my bus seems to loom.

“We don’t have time for this,” I snap. “I have a bus to catch and we need to get where we’re going.”

And he’s all, “But my helmet and my knee and ouch my toe…”

And sometimes I lose my patience.

Because, so the fuck what it’s hard. You know what? It really ain’t that hard. I’ve been through harder. Your knee hurts, well so does mine. Almost always. You’re tired from playing all day? Well I was working all day and had to ride the 8 miles from work to the Boys & Girls club because the bus bike rack was full. It was a brutal ride and we have 4 more to go.

I don’t want to hear about your pain, I have my own I’m trying to work through.

But I’m the parent, so its selfish for me to talk about my pain, when he’s talking about his. I’m supposed to keep that to myself and let him believe that the rides are only challenging for him. I’m supermom and can handle it all.

But that load gets heavy and on some level I want him to understand that the shit isn’t easy for me either. I enjoy commuting by bike most of the time, yes. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t also challenging. It doesn’t mean there aren’t days that I wish I had a car, so I wouldn’t have to worry about missing the bus and always being prepared to get on my bike and push myself the distance to get to him on time; before the Boys & Girl’s club closes.

So I tell him, straight up, that it’s not easy. Life isn’t easy. We gotta do, what we gotta do. And sometimes, to get things done, you just gotta grit your teeth, and keep it pushing.