Oh, Pinterest. A place to make you laugh, cry and be hungry all in the first 10 seconds. A while back I came across a pin that was something along the lines of "Someone else would gladly have what you are complaining about." It was pretty much a thought for mothers who are having bad days with their kids.
And it's true. I know it's true. I know that there are people out there who struggle every single day with infertility. I realize that there are mommas out there who have lost their babies and would give anything, anything at all, to simply hold them one more time. I know this to be true, and for those mommas, I am so sorry for your hurt. I know that it is real and it is heavy and it can be all consuming. I have myself mourned for a child I never got to hold. I have watched people I love mourn the loss of their children. It is the worst thing. The very worst.
But just knowing that other people wish for the happy, healthy children that I have sometimes isn't enough to make the crazy go away. Sometimes, dealing with the every day reality of having and homeschooling four kids is just hard.
Hearing the little man with whom you have just had a 20 minute struggle to put on his shoes and get his butt in the van call you the "worst mom in the whole wide world" sucks. On a long day, it might be enough to push you over the edge. It might cause you tell him to look for another mom because you are resigning from the position. It may not be your best parenting moment.
When your Tigger is extra tired and extra bouncy and backtalks you in public and then bursts into tears in the buffet line, the last thing on your mind is gratitude. The first thing might be wanting to burst into tears yourself or to go crawl in a hole and hide.
When your boys act like boys and your furniture looks like it belongs in a frat house, it's easy to forget that these little men are gifts from God. Holes in the dry wall and rips in the couch cushions can be enough to make me wallow in a "woe is me" kind of pity party. "Poor me. I'll never have nice things. If I do, they'll just ruin them!"
In that moment when your daughter first rolls her eyes at you and you realize you are now raising a pre-teen girl and it's not all going to be sunshine and roses, it's easy to forget the blessing that children are. It's easier to remember the mess of hormones that come with growing up and all the mess that entails. And the funk. Oh, the funk. The funky attitudes and the funky smells are enough to make this mother question her own sanity.
It's easy to forget when I'm tired, hungry, stressed, and/or single-parenting because my hard working husband is on the night shift.
But it's easy to remember when the little man looks up at you and says in his sweetest voice, with his cutest face, "Hold me, Mom." When Tigger wraps his arms around you and cries into your shoulder and says that he's sorry and he just wants his mommy to hold him for a minute, then you remember. When your not-so-little girl willingly shares a secret with you, trusting you to keep her confidence, you know why you do this parenting thing every day. When your growing-up-way-too-fast tween looks at you and out of the blue says, "I just love you so much, Mom," you wonder how you ever thought furniture was important. In those moments, you remember.
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