You are Not the Only One

I was talking to one of me dear sister's in law the other day who recently had her third baby. They just moved to a new place and find themselves without much community, a hardship that is most burdensome to the stay at home mom.  We were talking about her kids and she admitted to being overwhelmed sometimes with three (something I find people are remiss to admit to me sometimes just because I have more children, but believe me I was overwhelmed long before we got to six!).  Then she said with a meek and shameful tone in her voice "I think I am the only mom who yells at her kids."    My response probably should have been one of quiet assurance and sympathy but it went more like this: "BHAAAAA! Are you kidding me?! Should I run down the litany of ridiculous things I have done today to make you feel better?"

That's the funny thing about motherhood.  You know you aren't alone, that there are millions of moms out there doing the same thing you are. Millions of us, around the world, that get up and think about everyone but ourselves for hours (sometimes days) at a time.  We forgo the shower, sniff our clothes to see if we can wear them one more time, get our exercise while wearing people, or while navigating yoga poses around the toddler asking for goldfish with no regard to your concerns about maintaining a decent heart rate.  We think about dinner with a looming dread as soon as we get the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher; we coordinate schedules, and clean toilets (and if you have boys this mostly consists of constantly cleaning the pee off the floor and never quite eradicating the odor it leaves behind); we teach, entertain, referee, and on a good day save time and energy to listen to (or on a really good day have sex with) our husbands.  We are not alone and yet most women often feel like they are the only ones that don't love this job every second, the only ones that feel frustration or guilt or shame about the mistakes we make, the only one that dreams about running away without telling any one and escaping to Mexico where there are free-flowing margaritas and sun and quiet.

So today I thought I would give you a peek into just a few of my mistakes, the things I feel guilty about and the habits I convince myself no one else has. Hopefully it will remind you you are not alone, or at least convince you that your kids are better off then mine!

Television: 
The Rule: No TV on weekdays for the school-aged children and no TV for the little ones until after nap time.
What Really Happens: My sad attempt at craft time ends with paint all over the floor and my clean shirt (which I was planning on wearing for 2 more days) the 3 year old hits the 2 year old with his paint brush, she screams and pours her paint out on the table meanwhile the baby pulls the plastic table cloth (where incidentally none of the spilled paint has ended up) so hard that the water cups spill until finally I pick up all the paint brushes and say as cheerfully as I can through gritted teeth "who wants to watch a Curious George?"

Sugar
The Rule: No sugar during the day and only in the evening if you have finished your dinner with a cheerful attitude.
What Really Happens: We have a busy morning with 2 doctors visits and remarkably everyone has held it together, then I remember that I have to get bread and milk or there will be nothing for lunches and I will have to go to the store at 8:30pm when I am half asleep, and I'll end up buying Ben and Jerry's and 7 other things I do not need. So we brave the isles and all is well for about 2 minutes, until the toddlers start fighting and the baby starts crying and before you know it I have closed their mouth holes with 2 donuts and pretend we are running "for fun" to the back of the store where they strategically keep the milk so that desperate mothers like me will end up buying donuts, at noon, before they feed their kids lunch.

Fast Food
The Rule:  I will cook dinner a minimum of 6 days a week and it will be balanced and healthy and if you don't like it you can have a PBJ or go hungry.
What Really Happens:  I forgot to thaw the hamburger for the tacos, and didn't really want that anyway, and then my husband is unexpectedly delayed at work. I consider the groans I'll get when I put said taco meet in front of a toddler and then I decide it would be easier to pile the kids in the car and drive through Wendy's. I'll cut up an apple or something and then it will be balanced, right? At least the baby will get a good meal...would you like a side of fries with that breast milk?

Yelling
The Rule: We do not raise our voices to each other; we do not yell to get our way; mommy will only yell when you are in danger and not when she is angry.
What actually happens:  Eight-year-old yells at six-year-old, six-year-old whines and cries, three-year-old pushes six-year-old and suddenly eight-year-old is defending six-year-old by yelling at three-year-old to stop. Two-year-old wants juice, we don't have juice, two-year-old starts screaming and moaning while the aforementioned three-year-old hits the aforementioned eight-year-old and the noise and chaos wakes the sleeping 9 month old. I decide they are in danger, of being strangled, and I yell "EVERYONE STOP YELLING RIGHT THIS MINUTE!" I threaten to take away TV, video games, food, water, a soft bed and  give every toy they own to the poor, and finally they stop....for now.

Bathing
The Rule: Big kids shower a minimum of four days a week, babies get baths every other night, or nightly if particularly dirty at the end of the day.
What Really Happens: It's the end of the day in a series of many long days, I realize the big boys haven't showered in 3 days so I sniff their hair and decide they can go one more day if it means they will be in bed sooner.  I am nursing the baby and notice some unidentifiable crust behind his ear and realize I cannot remember the last time he had a bath so I give him a good scrub with a wipe and promise to get him and his stinky sister in the tub tomorrow.

Then there's bribing (do it), family prayer time (do it every night, but hardly ever make it through more than 1 decade of the rosary and that is usually painful or it's one Our Father and a kiss goodnight), house work (don't do it enough; my 9 month old ate at least 1/4 cup of old cheerios off the floor today before I knew what was happening), quality time (does diaper changing count? or signing homework folders?) reading (we are half way through The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, and the Hobbit, and Charlotte's Web...my six-year-old has taken it upon himself to finish these without me).  You get the point.

But then, there's all the laughter and the moments where their character and kindness show through all the chaos. There are the nights when you do all sit down to dinner and they eat it, when you do all pray and they mean it, when they listen to the story and they get it. Or none of those things happen but at the end of the day they hug you tight and tell you they love you and you realize they don't care if they're dirty, or if they ate fries for dinner and they don't remember you losing your temper they just love you and they are happy to be alive and ready to get up and love you all over again.  They don't keep score, they don't hold grudges, and it never occurs to them that you might be failing at anything.  So next time you feel like a failure ask yourself who is telling you that; I promise it's not that little guy looking up at you calling you mommy.