Sometimes the toothpaste in the sink and the books all over the floor are too much. Sometimes the endless (really, endless) laundry is daunting. Sometimes the thought of what we are going to eat meal after meal after meal is exhausting. Sometimes I need a breather. You know, a vacation? From being a mom. Except that doesn't exist.
Sometimes they listen the first time and we are productive and positive. Sometimes (today) they don’t and we spend a lot of time in our rooms. Some kids run there, some kids wail all the way down the hall and some stomp (would you like to guess who’s who?). Sometimes they listen the first time and I dole out praises like crazy and sometimes I hear myself saying the same thing over and over except I can hear that the tone of my voice varies somewhat. Sometimes they share and are sweet and I’m proud to be their mom and sometimes they screech and yell and whine and I wonder where on earth I went wrong.
After everyone had had a turn in their room today, I needed mine. My plan was simply to wash my face and put on real people clothes so I didn’t scare the service man when he arrived, but as I walked into my room I fell down by my bed and pleaded to heaven. I pleaded for patience, for my children to make good choices and for me to do the same. I pleaded for inspiration as to what to say and how to react as this day was going to keep going despite my desire to call it done. Mostly I pleaded for peace. I happen to think that’s the most important feeling one can possess, and I was lacking.
Sometimes I’m ready to shut down when dad walks in the door at the end of the day as sometimes I’m emotionally hanging on until that very moment and then, for whatever reason, I feel done. I know this isn’t fair. Really, I do. But the idea of being able to disappear at that very moment and be all by myself is so, so tempting.
My little boy (who isn’t so little) needs to practice his reading. We need to get through his scriptures and he needs to be read to. My little girl needs to practice her letters. The littlest one is still trying to master colors. We’re learning to make beds and fold our own clothes and help in the kitchen. We’re learning to put toys in the right place when we’re done and to help books find the shelf when they’ve been read. There is a learning curve in cleaning a bathroom and sometimes we’ve got a long way to go. We’re practicing in the pool every single day. There is so much they could and should be learning and the sheer amount of it all is so heavy. I look around at all there is to do and know that I am capable of some of it, but in order to accomplish that some, other things suffer.
Perhaps you’ve already seen this video? I must have been at the breaking point because it brought tears today.
There is a part in the video that reminds us that we do this job with angels. I literally said out loud, while sitting at the computer, “angels, where are you?!” And then I felt them. They were here the whole time. They are surrounding me and my children and I was so busy being frustrated and overwhelmed that I didn’t notice them trying to help me.
Sometimes there are days when I am tired and not feeling my best. Sometimes I wish I could call in sick or take a personal day. But I can’t. So I remember two things: first, there are women in this world who ache more than words can express for the opportunity I have to do this every day. Second, I don’t have to do it alone.
And a special shout-out to the angels whose idea it was to instigate regular nap time. I sing your praises. Everyday at 1:00.