A Day in the Life....

With eyes still shut I roll over, my mind is awake now, I urge my body not to follow. Feet hit the floor, not mine. Smaller feet, faster feet, louder feet. My ears are awakened now, and if they weren't the screams that followed the scampering of feet did the job.

I squeeze my eyes closed tighter, wait for it... "THUD", right on time, the door flings open and hits the wall. I lay still, slow my breathing, eyes still closed. Maybe they'll think I'm still sleeping, maybe they won't jump... "MOM!!" Little arms on me, bodies climbing over me, surrounding me, now my body is awake.  I'm up...

Rubbing my eyes, reminding my feet to move, one step, then the other, down the stairs we go. Inundated with request, no demands. Cereal, juice, waffles, t.v. show, eggs, toast, wipe my butt... I stand at the sink, staring out the small kitchen window, ears flooded with demands, legs being pulled on by a screaming 13 month old.

Coffee, I have to have coffee, I can't move forward without it, of this I'm sure.  I begin the shuffle, slamming around the cereal bowls and cups of juice, doing my best to not speak, if I do it will surely be screams. I, not very graciously, give each child what they demand, while I wait for my coffee to brew. Now I stand, cup in hand, I just need a minute. I need to get my head on straight, recall all of the days necessary things, like the day of the week, what month is it again? Appointments, dinner, lunches, schedules, practices, floors, laundry, bathrooms, dishes... children. You know, the usual.

A while later I sit to read, open my book, pick up  my pencil, get to the second line... Screams erupt, tears soak a sweet little face, a body shakes. A large and bleeding bump to the head has been acquired by a 3 year old. After further inspection, all is needed is some ice and a lot of love. So much for the book, that opportunity has been lost in the sea of tears.

The hustle and bustle of the day continues, showers, baths, lunches, fights, the anxiety from the morning never leaving, only continue on it's cycle as it escalates to anger, then retreats to guilt.

Finally, quiet. One child sleeps, one is singing her heart out in her room, while the oldest tinkers with his Legos in his room. I sit, looking around at the new piles of crumbs on the floor, the once folded blankets thrown about, the shredded papers everywhere. I see the scattered crayons on the t.v. stand, the toys left out, books with torn pages tossed around. I see a mess, I see more work, I feel angry, defeated, frustrated that my days begin, and ends, with refereeing, cleaning, consoling... A minute to sit, that's it, that's all I wanted, to read, and drink my now 5 hour old, cold cup of coffee, to sit and pray and meditate...

Lost in my thoughts, attempting to stuff down my emotions, and muster up the will power to jump back into the never stopping hamster wheel that is my life. I hear a voice, a sweet voice talking, my attention is now drawn to the 3 year old girl standing at the t.v. stand in front of the pile of crayons and pencils. Her back is turned to me, with her wild hair, t-shirt and underwear she stands with crayons and pencils in her hand. I open my mouth to stop her from what I think is coloring on furniture, only to realize that she isn't guilty of what I almost accused. She is pretending the pencil is the mother, the crayons are the children. They are having a lovely conversation about what they will eat for lunch and what book they will read.

I'm stuck, I can't move, frozen in place... With an aching heart, a knot in my throat, hot tears start to trickle down my cheeks. My anxiety flees, my mind clears... This is what my day was supposed to be, this is where my heart is. For the next hour, I don't move, I sit right where I was, watching, smiling, listening... Anxiety now replaced with joy, my day is new, I'm refreshed, filled, and ready to face the rest of the day.

It's so hard to overlook all the stuff that has to be done, and remember there are 4 little hearts that need to be nurtured and loved. It's hard to not wake up, and before my eyes are even opened, no be overwhelmed with the anxieties of the day ahead of me. I try, I really do, and some days, I succeed, others not so much.

My point? Well, I don't know about the rest of you moms, but what I know for me, is that no day will ever be perfect. Some days will be awesome, and filled with joy, some days will awful, some days I will do everything just good enough, not great but just good enough. For me, the struggle has been understanding that, understanding that no matter how hard I try, the day will not ever be perfect. I can't control all the tears, and fights, and messes, and emotions... I can't control life... I can try my best to make the best of it, and sometimes I will succeed, and sometimes I will fail.

 And, well, that's okay with me.

Equipping my kids, with what????

I pick my older two, ages 6 and 7, up from the bus stop every day. Almost immediately the stories begin, the drama of kindergarten and first grade is unreal! Stories filled with laughter and silly gestures, stories of students bullying, stories of teachers bullying. Some told with smiles and giggles, flushed cheeks as they mention their "crush", some told with tears pouring down their faces, eyes begging please don't send me back, stories told sheepishly as they fear getting in trouble for the mischief they caused at school. Everyday it's something new, I never know how to prepare myself, I just have to get my game face straight before I get them. I try not to give away what I'm thinking as they fill the van with their chatter about the day.

I have to wonder at times, "Am I doing this right? Am I preparing them properly? What tools do they still need? Am I properly equipping them?"  Who/what do I want them to be, how do I want them to behave and react/respond to their surroundings?

I'm finding more and more everyday that some of these questions really don't and can't have an etched in stone answer. I can't decide these things for them, I can't tell them who they'll be, I can't control how they react/respond! Don't get me wrong, I want to, every controlling part of my being is bursting at it's seams just dying to jump out of my skin and tell them exactly who they will be and how they will behave! All I can do is equip them, and pray for them. Then the question is "Equip them with what?" I imagine it's different for each...

So now it's onto trying to answer that question. I can't control who they become, but I do have some say in what type of person they turn out to be! So as I sit tonight, tucking each one in, I ponder, what do I need to equip these little people with? Compassion, empathy, love, kindness, grace, courage, selflessness, boldness, strength... I don't know, maybe there is more, but this is my list, this is it for now...

I want them to be open to others, bold enough to stand up for those who can't and to stand firm in what they believe. I want them to feel what others feel, so that they can provide for them what they need, I want them to be strong enough to stand up when they get knocked down, kind enough to love when they feel unloved. I want them to have courage to be different, to go beyond the limits that the world sets on their lives. I want them to be selfless, remembering and believing that it's not about us, or them. I want them to be willing to live a life that may look different, and to find joy in every bit of it.

Maybe this sounds crazy, and you're thinking they are only 6 and 7! My response, I am amazed daily, when they get off that bus and fill our mini van with their stories. I am amazed how perceptive they are, I'm amazed at how much they understand, I am blown away at how much, at 6 and 7, that they are exposed to, the pain they see, the hurt they feel. They understand brokenness, they see that pain in others. I believe they can learn now how to respond to that, they already show a lot of the things on my list. I just need to water that plant, prune the leaves, give it light, keep it warm, allow it to grow...

I would so much rather do this now... Can you imagine, 16 years old and all of a sudden your child is hit with the shock of a life time, a pill too hard for some to swallow. It's not all about them, Gasp.....

I may do a lot wrong in this parenting thing, we all do, but this is one area I REALLY want to get right!

Trapped

Have you ever watch the Discovery Channel, particularly one of the specials on lions? You know, the ones that you think are educational for your 6 year old until they start mating on film? Oh, that hasn't happened to you? Well, wish I could say the same! Along with the mating scene, they always show the lions feeding, they show the whole process.

The pack of female lions, stalk their prey, watching, waiting, I imagine they lay there salivating, just patiently waiting for the perfect moment, watching for the easiest prey. Then, when the moment has arrived they dart out from all different hiding places in the tall, yellow, grass, charging towards the prey, coming at it from all different directions. The gazelle desperately trying to find salvation, darting to the left, then right, it turns to run back, looking for somewhere safe... But you can see it in the gazelles eyes, in it's body movements when it realizes it's trapped, when it then accepts defeat.

I'm a mother, of four, and I'm lots of other things too, one of those things is... a gazelle. Yep, you read that right, I'm a gazelle.  Have you caught on yet? Some of you are like, "Yo, what is this chick on???", and some of you know exactly what I'm saying!

I love, and adore my children, so much so that sometimes it hurts, but some days I feel so trapped! I would be lying if I said that everything is awesome, (everything is cool when you're part of a team, oops sorry) some days are awesome, and some days are just normal, and some days I feel like the gazelle. I feel trapped, like they are coming at me from all angles, salivating, ready to pounce, and no matter what I do or how hard I try I'm trapped, defeated...

There were times when I would be ashamed for feeling this, not wanting to tell anyone, feeling like a horrible mother for feeling trapped by my own children. I don't anymore, I know that it's okay, and that feeling trapped doesn't make me a terrible mom, or a bad person. It reminds me to be more than a mom, not just for myself but for my children. It gives me courage to be more, to be better. They see me cower, but they then see me rise.

See, unlike the gazelle that is then devoured by her stalker, I'm not really trapped, it's a mental, emotional state, and I'm capable of defeating it. Being a mom is amazing, but sometimes it is just overwhelming, all the roles you have to play, all the faces you have to wear.

Today, remember, YOU ARE AWESOME! You are not perfect, never will be, but you are awesome. You are awesome because you love, because you comfort, you dry tears, you wipe boogies, and wash butts, and kiss snotty faces, and you live as an example, you teach, you guide, you do so much more. Don't forget all you are, don't get caught up in the mistakes, in the moments you lose it, in the failures...

Talk to someone about your struggles, and your triumphs, let another know they're not alone. Thank you for taking the time to read this, it means a lot, and hopefully it strikes a chord with some.