The Most Thankless Job There Is

Last night I finally climbed into bed after an exceptionally long and exhausting day. 

I was beyond tired, having woken up for the day before 5:00 AM, and thanks partly to the fact that I spent much of the night before comforting a child who had woken up terrified in the midst of a thunder storm, and nursing a baby who loves nothing more than to eat.

You would have thought that I would have fallen fast asleep the moment my head hit the pillow (like my husband does), but instead I just stared at the images on the video monitor, as it scanned back and forth between my children's bedrooms.  I was afraid to fall asleep, because I knew as soon as I did, like clockwork, one of my children would need me.

I have been feeling very needed lately, and that's not necessarily a bad thing, but it certainly can wear a mother out. There have been days where I have felt stretched beyond what I am capable of, and then some.  The daily routine that has become finding a way to divide my attention between the constant needs of an almost 4 month old, a busy and inquisitive four year old, and a sassy and sometimes dramatic 2 year old, is no doubt taking it's toll.

Yesterday in particular was one of those days where I wanted to lock myself in the bathroom with a bottle of rosé.  It was the third summer day in a row that we were trapped inside due to rain, following a weekend that I had single-parented my way through because my husband had been away. Over the course of these last few days, I had pulled out all the stops to entertain my little crew... movies, coloring, board games, Playdoh, even Happy Meals (gasp!)... you name it, I tried it.  Despite my attempts, the usual tantrums still occurred, the sibling battles ensued anyway, and the baby still wanted to be constantly held... I was feeling defeated.

I'm not the first mother to have three kids (or more for that matter), and I know for a fact that I won't be the last, but when you're outnumbered, you're outnumbered, regardless of by how many.

I spend my days sipping on coffee that has gone cold, wearing yoga pants that are covered in spit up stains, and much of the time my hair is tied up in an uncombed top knot.  Sometimes when I look in the mirror, I don't even recognize the reflection staring back at me.  There are bags under my eyes and the gray hairs that are growing in are too numerous to count.

I spend my nights wishing that I had accomplished more that day, struggling with the inevitable "mom guilt", and thinking that I really should make more time for myself.

Motherhood is one of the most thankless jobs that there is.  Much of the "work" involved often goes unnoticed. It is expected, and not always appreciated...

That is until after listening to you rant about the chaos that has become your life, one of your friends lets you know that her day has gone very similar to yours, and suddenly you realize that you are not alone.

That is until just before bed, when your four year old climbs into your lap, wraps his arms around your neck, and says "you're the best mommy in the whole wide world"!

Suddenly it ALL seems worth it, because you have just gotten all the thanks you need.

xoxo,

Survival Parenting

I love my kids.  I really and truly love them more than anything in the whole world... but sometimes they legitimately make me feel like a crazy person.

Being a stay at home mom is a job I have always dreamed of having.  I am incredibly thankful to my husband for working so hard to fulfill that wish for me, but the truth is, it isn't always easy.

This past weekend, I was on my own with the kids for a few days, which in actuality wasn't all that different from how we usually roll, but for a full 3 days, there were ZERO breaks... I couldn't pee alone, shower alone, or even sit down and enjoy a warm meal in its entirety... not that any of us get to enjoy these luxuries often as moms, but when you feel like you are gasping for air, sometimes even 5 minutes of peace and quiet, behind a closed door can feel like a day-long trip to the spa.

Max is now at the age where talking back has become his area of expertise. "No I don't have to", has become a common response when he is asked to do something.

Ella has suddenly become a stage 5 clinger... as in she holds on to the bottoms of my legs with a death grip and yells "mommy, mommy, mommy" on repeat.

Lately, running errands has become a dreaded past time.  A simple trip to the grocery store requires so much more effort than I have the energy for.  Car seats, coats, socks and shoes have become the bane of my existence.  Add to all of that, a case of the "I wants" that carries on throughout the shopping trip, accompanied by hair pulling and personal space invading, and I have found myself gritting my teeth and mumbling "Lord, give me strength" under my breath, more often than I should probably admit.

This post isn't meant to be an all out vent session, but I suppose in some senses it is.

I try so very hard to be a good mom, but there have been days recently where I feel like I am coming up short.

I catch myself having very little patience, and often,  I feel on the verge of snapping, and the guilt that I feel when my kids push me to that point, keeps me up at night on occasion.

Sometimes I feel terrible for the way that I react to my children's actions, even though in the moment, it seems totally appropriate.  Seeing them cry when they push to the point that discipline is required, is something that tears me apart inside... but the truth of the matter is, I know deep down, that in the long run M&E will only benefit from structure and discipline, that these boundaries are something that they need in order to thrive.

So even though Max might think that I am a mean mommy for making him eat a real dinner, rather than the granola bar that he'd prefer, or if Ella cries when I have to detach her from my legs and redirect her attention elsewhere so that I can accomplish a simple task, it doesn't necessarily make me mean, it means that I am doing my job.

If on occasion, I have to leave the room, shut the door, and count to ten, or, if on certain days, I feel the need to skip a trip to the store because it's just too hard to manage, than perhaps that is what I need to do.

I'm making it a point to be more forgiving with myself from this point on, and accepting of the fact that I just can't do it all.   I shouldn't feel inadequate, there are just going to be those days that are a struggle, and then there will be days that seem to breeze by with out so much as a hiccup, but I think that this is how parenting is supposed to be... I'm not sure, but I think.

I'm also making it a point to not compare myself to other mothers, who seem to have it all together, because let's be honest, it's unlikely that any of us do... and not to compare my children with other kids, who might seem so much better behaved than mine in certain moments, because no child is perfect.

I had to laugh the other day, when while dropping Max off at school, a couple of moms standing near by, overheard me asking "are you sure you don't need to go potty again before class?" "you'll tell the teachers if you have to go, right?" "make sure you share with your friends today, and use your words, don't just take things."... The other moms smiled, and one asked, "isn't it so funny how we all have the same conversations with our three year old before school?" The simple sentiment of her asking that question, reassured me that I'm not alone in the way I feel sometimes, that I'm not alone in constantly worrying that I'm parenting my kids the right way.  It appears that all of us, as mothers have moments where we feel inadequate. That we all question if we're teaching our children right from wrong.

The silver lining is, that we also get to experience those moments when we feel proud.  When our children do something great that validates our worth as parents and makes us feel good about the choices that we make for them.  Some days we might feel like mean or bad mommies, but in the eyes of our children, I doubt that's truly the case (at least until they are teenagers).  We're all striving to do the best we can, and the struggle is real.

So... like I said, this post wasn't meant to be entirely about my venting and getting all of this off of my chest, it was also meant to make any of you, who might feel like I do sometimes, aware, that you are not alone in these thoughts.  We're all in this together, just trying to stay afloat.  Deep breaths.   if today is a tough one, tomorrow is a fresh start.

TGIF

I was just thinking, thank God it's Friday... Then I was thinking TGIF... Random I know, but seriously who wouldn't be up for a little Full House and Step by Step watching tonight? I know I would.

Anyhow, we made it through the week, and it's almost time to indulge in the sweet relief that washes over me the second that Mike walks through the door and I can embrace the fact that at least for a couple of days, taking on M & E will be a tag-team effort.

These last few days have been crazy. We battled the sniffles, dealt with a nap strike, made several more (failed) attempts at potty training, and still somehow managed to accomplish some projects around the house.

It is supposed to be beautiful this weekend, and there are about a million and one fall festivals kicking off, so hopefully that is on the agenda in addition to some more autumn decorating.

I felt our autumn mantle was still lacking something, so with a little twig gathering assistance from Max, some gold spray paint, some battery operated candles, faux leaves, and twine... I'm feeling much more satisfied. I would spray paint everything gold if I could... I won't, but it will take some restraint.

It might still need a little something more, perhaps a wreath, but for now I'm thinking about whipping up some autumn sangria, kicking back, and relaxing.

Happy Friday!

-J

My Baby... Plus One

I've been experiencing a fair amount of anxiety lately. I can't seem to escape the frantic to-do list in my head, of things that MUST be done before baby #2 arrives. Time is ticking, and with a presumable 4-5 weeks to go, give or take, I can't help but feel a little doubtful that I actually can, and will, accomplish it all.

It dawned on me the other day, that the time I get to spend one on one with my sweet little boy is rapidly passing by, and soon will come to an end.

Of course, I am elated to welcome our baby girl into the world, and feel blessed beyond belief to be giving Max a sibling... However, there is a slight touch of fear to go along with all of that joy. The uncertainty of how our family dynamic is about to change is a bit intimidating.

I remember, shortly after we brought Max home from the hospital, when my brain was still fogged with the perpetual bliss (and hormone overload) that comes with welcoming a new life into the world, wondering if I could ever love another living thing as much as loved him. I sat there rocking him in my arms and inhaling his intoxicating newborn smell, thinking this, THIS, is what the unwavering feeling of true love really is!

Naturally, after 35 weeks of carrying this new bundle, I now know that it will most definitely be possible to love this baby just as much.  There is no denying however, that over the past 20 months, Max and I have formed a very special bond.

Lately, the hugs, kisses, and snuggles from my little man have been overwhelmingly abundant, and I couldn't be more pleased. I am making the best effort I can to savor these special moments with him, before I am bombarded with the reality that I will have 2 to care for, 2 to split my attention and time with. I imagine most women struggle with this same anxiety as they make they jump from mommy of one to mommy of two. Maybe not though, maybe it's just me.

Either way, it's inevitable that our baby girl is going to make her way into this world sooner or later, and I'm doing my best to be prepared... If that's even possible.

At the moment, the main source of my anxiety is the knowledge that I will have to be away from Max, overnight, while I deliver this little princess. I have never spent one night away from Max, since the day he was born, and while I knew this day would eventually come, the sadness I feel over not being able  to tuck him in for the night, and watch him fall asleep on the video monitor is very raw and real.

Is it normal to feel so much guilt over something like this? Will I feel this anxious next time around, or by then will I be a seasoned professional?

Perhaps this is what being a mother is all about, the ongoing worry and struggle that you're giving all that you have to each of your children... Being carefully sure that your love and attention is being spread as fairly as possible, so that none of your sweet babies ever feel as though they're not getting enough. 

I suppose soon enough, I am going to find out. For now though, I'm treasuring my time with this precious little boy who is currently carrying a baby doll around the room, proudly shouting, "Ba-by, baaaa-by, ba-by!" Little does he know, he still is and always will be, my baby.

-J