In every mother's job description patience and consistency are key.
As a stay at home mother, I am with my children every minute of every day. I am their everything, as they are my everything. There are hours that fly, and hours that creep. There are naps times that happen and naps that are painfully battled. My job description is endless and full of teaching my children to not hit one another in the face with toy trucks, while unloading the dishwasher, preparing dinner, changing a diaper, cleaning spilled milk, wiping snotty noses, getting slobbery kisses and consoling tears, and making sure I have not allowed to much TV, planned enough play dates and activities...All at the same time. My lap is full of babies, my shoulders wet with drool and spit up, my clothes do not fit because I have not been the same size for more than a month in four years. I am so happy and tired at the same time. It is blissful elation one moment, and when is your daddy going to be home the next. It is stay at home mommy land. For that matter, it is motherhood. And I love it.
Having my children so close together has its extreme high points. They will all be together going through school. They are in similar stages. They are super duper cute. And most importantly...and hopefully, they will be friends.
Having them this close together also brings struggle. I never get to go anywhere, I am stuck inside all the time, someone is always crying, the diapers...my caddy, yet very real, excuses could keep going. I also am working on very little sleep... and I have been losing my cool. Snapping at the kids, staring at my phone instead of listening to them. Letting them watch to many movies.
Basically in my book, I have not been doing a good job. And that is where I get to my point of the evening.
How long do you let yourself sit in a pool of pity before you suck it up, pick yourself up, brush off your whiny behind and move on?
August 12, 2013. Mark that date. That is my answer.
I fell off of a cliff into a rut two weeks ago. It came out of no where. Like a cinder block wall built in the middle of the night. I hit it. Going fast and not breaking. It has been ugly. I have been everything I never wanted to be. I fully admit it, and own it.
Most embarrassingly, my precious Charlotte is the one who called me out. After day 157 of her fighting rest/nap/quiet/stayinyourroommommyneedsabreak time, and me in the midst of trying to get Hunter down, Bland down, lunch cleaned up, laundry switched, the floor swept, a bathroom break, eating lunch myself...I lost my cool. I told her to come downstairs, and in a not nice voice, I then hastily banned her from every form of entertainment in the house. Like even coloring. Yep, it was me becoming the three-year-old, and her looking at me like I was the Wicked Witch from Wizard of Oz.
A few hours after this event. The kids were all having a snack, and Charlotte said, "mommy, I am sorry I did not take a nap, I was just not tired and my tummy hurt. But please don't raise your voice at me, it makes me want to cry. I will do better tomorrow."
Yep, ladies and gentlemen, that happened.
And yes I felt smaller than a grain of table salt. This was all obviously followed with my cheeks turning red, and several profuse apologies and explanations, and tail tucked between my legs... you get the picture. I am sure you are embarrassed for me. The disappointment resonated in me hard.
I thought about a friend that posted a sweet picture of her children on Instagram about them being her job and hashtaged it with the word Employers. And it woke me up.
My children are my employers, and today I would have been fired.
That is where it happened. My "A ha" moment. I am not going to look at this as a "deck of cards" or a "tough situation". It is hard, they are healthy. My ear drums are numb from the crying, they are strong. My house is a wreck and my face is full of exhaustion and wrinkles, they are full filled.
Sure I will own up to days of defeat. But I am not defeated. I am not a perfect mother, not even close. There is no super-mother, Pinterest priestess living here. But I am a good, strong momma.
And ready to be humbled yet again tomorrow, and it could very well come from my almost four year old.
