Sometimes parenting feels like an out of body experience.

Sometimes it feels like I'm still this

immature,

moody,

confused kid,

who no way in heck is old and responsible enough to be raising a kid, or two, or in my case, three.

Sometimes I look at my

nine,

six,

and four-year-old

and wonder how I've managed to keep them alive, happy enough, and thriving for all the years I have.

Sometimes I see smiles stretch so big across their faces and marvel at the fact that my sheer presence can create such.

Other times I'm watching myself make mistake after mistake, like hearing myself uncontrollably yell critical words, observing them spew from my mouth and undeservedly land on my unsuspecting and ill-prepared kids.

Sometimes parenting feels like an out of body experience.

And as strange as that sounds and feels, I think it's a good thing.

Parenting is an

all-in,

full contact,

tiring,

but rewarding activity,

and if we didn't ever disconnect and question or stand in awe of our ability, I don't think we'd be as good as we are (or can be).

Growth as a parent isn't achieved unless you're willing to

monitor,

inspect,

and analyze the person your child or children have helped shape you into,

pat yourself on the back for the heck of the job you've done so far,

and wholly resign yourself to the fact that there's room for much improvement.

** credit for this super cool photo goes to my 9-year-old