“Why do you always do this?”
I was trying to fix something and didn’t see the clear glue on the clear lenses, I wanted to yell.

“Why do you always do this?” I wanted to tell as I felt my face throb shortly after a die-cast toy plane swiped right under my eye and landed into the bridge of my nose.

I yelled out the name of the kid holding the plane and started to cry. It hurt and it wasn’t the first time the kid had throttled me in the face that day. The knee to the chin wasn’t nearly as painful as the plane across the nose.

While I assessed the damage, Mountain Kid 2 went upstairs to where the pilot retreated to and started yelling for an apology. I didn’t think of telling him to stop. I just looked in the mirror at my red and tear-stained face, wondering if anything was broken.

“Why do you always do that?”
I let my guard down, tried to do my own thing when the burly boy/pilot wanted attention.

“Why do you always do that?”
I keep my kids away while I clean because they seem to make things worse.

“Why do you always do that?”
Because I’m human. Last time I checked we’re all human.

I make mistakes. Sometimes I learn from them. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I fix things. Other times I just make things worse.

“Why do you always do that?”
I wish I had a good answer to that.

Today, I found a better answer as I was crying into the dirty dishes I was washing because I felt bad for the pilot upstairs and how much of an idiot I thought I looked like as I texted out a replay of the incident and it’s aftermath.

I do it because I’m human and I cry when I get hurt.

I do it because I want to make the lives of my loved ones better.

I do it because I’m a mom and care for my family.

I do it because I can.

I do it because I’m not as all-knowing as I imagine myself to be.

I do it because I’m competitive.

I do it because I’m a woman, still trying to figure life out. I have good days and bad, but I try make the most of them. My value is not determined by one incident, but over time.

I do it without thinking without regard to myself or others. Yes, at times it can be stupid, but it can also be beautiful and perfect in its own way.

Why do you do it?