Being a parent is so weird.
One minute, your 19 month old is tearing around the public restroom (which doesn't have a changing table), rubbing his hands all over the toilet seat, trash can, door stopper, while you try to change his poopy diaper. You calm yourself by silently repeating, "just two hours until bedtime. Just two more hours."
And then, the next minute, once he's asleep, you're at the corner store, giddy on the trivial freedom of moving through the world solo. Suddenly, you hear a toddler's voice pipe up one aisle over, and your whole body thinks, "Oh, I wish my little one was here!"
Bang. Bang. Back and forth, one to the next. Whiplash. I remember feeling crazy in the first few months of motherhood when this sensation swung through. I'm used to it now, but it still startles me with its intensity.
How much can you hold? How much feeling can you contain? Keep growing your capacity. I am constantly humbled and amused by this journey.