Screw you Mommy Guilt! Ep. 2

So, I'm starting to feel that mommy guilt creeping up again.  I just can't seem to get a handle on my life!  I guess, for the most part, I don't really notice it until I find myself at the end of the day collapsed into a pile of heaving sobs repeating the mantra of "I did my best."

You know you thought of that.

Good times...

But this week it's been a little different.  My husband has been home sick with the flu all week.  (Dear 7 pound 11 ounces baby Jesus, don't let me get sick!)  I know that he has spent most of the week in a quarantined state in our bedroom but I can't help but think:  "He must think I am crazy".

Because whether he can hear me or not, his presences has made me very much aware of all the colorful stuff that has been coming out of my mouth.

Mostly things like this:

* I don't know what you did with your water bottle.  If you want water you better find your cup and bring it to me before we run out of it.
* Fight to the death!
* I don't care if she hit you, why are you telling me?  You better take it up with her.
* I swear if you don't stop _  I will smack you so hard you won't know your own name!
* Is anyone going to actually eat lunch or should I even bother with preparing food?
* Where are your shoes? (x10)
* Get in the house (x10)
* No you can not watch tv. (x10)
* No you can not have juice (x10)
* No you can not paint your brother
* GET OUT OF THERE!
* DON'T TOUCH THAT!
* Oh no, that is not ok.
* Is that poop?
* Do I look happy right now?
* What are you saying?
* Please don't pee on the floor?
* You are going to have to wait until I am done.
* Do you want a spanking? (x100,000,000)

Don't even get me started on the F word

I realized that over the course of the week, I haven't really spent a lot of time speaking words of uplifting truth to my kids.  Who's got the time?  I mean, I spend most of my day keeping my kids from killing themselves or each other and making sure the house is suitable for human habitation.

How do other mom's do it?  I know my case isn't that unusual.  Having three kids this close in age is hard but it's definitely not unique.  I think of one of my girlfriends.  She's got six kids and she's expecting her seventh!  And they're all close in age.  How does she do it?

I used to think that I would love for my husband to stay home one day and just watch the chaos that I have to deal with every day.  That way I could show him exactly why I am losing my mind and why I should be showered with purple unicorns for not losing it completely.  But now that he's here I realize, I'm not really doing as great a job as I thought.

There are no quite times for bible study, or arts and crafts, or even book reading.  I just feel like there are more time-out's then time-in's and it's mostly just a lot of yelling.  I feel so guilty.  I never wanted to be a yeller.  Although, I don't know how I would communicate otherwise...  I'm not exactly a quite person...

But at the end of the day when I am wiped and I don't have the energy to even get undressed for bed, my kids still ask for prayers at night and to be tucked in and to be song a lullaby, and it's usually around the second verse of "Baby Mine" that I realize that I'm not failing at all.

It's called parenting.

Antenella

Have A Nice Day!

So I have three kids.  Just three.  But it turns out that I am a traveling circus with three kids.  I can't go any where or do anything without someone saying, "You've got your hands full!"  Yes, thank you.  I am well aware.  Now will you please move your fat head so I can get to the lucky charms cereal before one of my arms falls off?

These kinds of comments I really don't mind.  In fact, I get a lot of comments that a normal person shouldn't get and I can still roll with the punches.  There is very little you can say or ask me that would offend me.  I knew that this was going to be a God send as soon as we brought my youngest home.  (She really doesn't look like any of us... We get a lot of questions)

But some things you just shouldn't say to a person.  For example:  "You have a girl and a boy so now your done, right?"  I'm sorry, Who are you again?  And why is it any of your concern if I have more children or not, lady at target in the check-out line using a check to pay.  Will you just hand the cashier a credit card like everyone else, and get the hell out of my way... please?  To which I replied, "I actually am expecting another one in June".  Then I watched as her face fell in horror.  Have a nice day!  (Disclaimer:  I am not actually expecting another baby at all in any near future)

I recently got a comment that tops that one and honestly, I just didn't even think could come out of people.  I'm getting my kids into the car in a parking lot and an older lady is trying to get to her car which is right beside mine.  She pipes up "Behind you" as she makes her way to her car.  No biggie.  Thanks for the warning.  I don't think anything of it.  Until I hear.

"Don't have anymore kids." Slam!  As she closes her car door quickly.

...

I know!!!

I spin around and yell at her through her window.  "What did you say?!  That is by far the rudest thing I have ever heard anyone utter."  With great satisfaction I saw her face go white with fear.  I guess she figured I was going to come through the window after her.

There are so many things wrong with this:

1.  I only had two of my three kids with me.  So if it looked like I was a circus to her already, she should see me with a full performance.

2.  My kids were being uncharacteristically well behaved.

3.  Who says that?  You may think it all you want but what is the use of voicing it at all.  I'm not going to give my kids back just because you think I shouldn't have any more.

4.  And lastly, when did we become a society that thinks of children as burdens instead of the joy that they are?

I would like to say that the comment was heard and then forgotten but I have to admit that it really hurt me.  

It hurt because I do feel like we can be "a lot".  That ever where we go involves planning, cooperation, verbal cues and constant direction.  It hurt because it is isolating.  You can't go to story time at the library, or pay 10$ a head for an indoor play park or even going over to a friends house becomes a lot of ruckus.  Three kids isn't a lot of kids, but it is.

It hurts because I know that deep down everyone around me thinks that I'm in over my head.  And most of the times they would be right.  But it's so worth it!  I wouldn't have it any other way.  I hurts because I don't think people see the beauty of my children.  The way they care for each other, or care for others.  The way my son talks, my oldest smiles or my youngest laughs.  All they see is a bunch of kids as they turn up there noses.

It makes me sad to think I'm raising my children in a society that seems to be quite content to not have any at all.  Not in restaurants or movies or airplanes.  It makes me sad because one day I would like more children.  But I'm even afraid to voice this thought for the reaction I would get from family or friends or even complete strangers.  It's hard enough raising kids with out people judging you for the very fact that you have them at all.  

I can't be the only one.  

I think, my kids are healthy.  What about all those mothers with kids that don't have that luxury?  Those that are blessed with special needs kids?  How do they manage?  What kind of atrocities do they have to deal with in the public arena ever single day?  What kind of comments are they dealing with that are said to their face or behind their backs?  Why are we so quick to cut someone so deep?

I want you to know that you are not alone.  That it doesn't matter where you kid is in his walk of life, stupid people are going to say stupid things.  Your kids aren't a burden! Quite the opposite, your kids are perfect!  They are a blessing from God!  They are the color of this world, the music to your communities, the life of our lives and our home and our schools!  Our children, any child is what makes living in this fallen world a joy.  It breaks my heart to think that we have forgotten that.

So from now on I refuse to be told that my kids are too much.  They are all under 4!  They're not too much!  They're children!  And children grow up, but they don't forget the way they were treated.  So, you, stupid old lady in the parking lot, can go live a sad, lonely, pathetic life because no one will be there when you die.

Have a nice day!

Antenella

My Son Is Trying To Kill Me

No really.  I think, he, in the early morning hours before he bursts into my bedroom, takes a moment of reflection to really think about what kind of horrors he can thrust upon me in my waking hours.

I'm at the YMCA.  I love it there!  It seriously is a home away from home.  A place where I can go and no one judges me, everyone knows my name and the whole staff is well aware of the history of my children... especially my son.  Despite the fact that the front desk people know way too much about me and my "fantastic" parenting skills they seem to like me anyway.

It almost looks like this... almost.

Anywho, I'm at the YMCA bright and early on a monday morning.  I had dropped my eldest off at her speech therapy and I was planning on taking the twins to the mommy and me class that the Y offers at 9 in the morning.  Well, I get there super early, like 8:30, which never happens so I proceed to wait in the lobby until it's our time.

Everything is going well.  The kids are happy to not be going home and they are ecstatic that they won't be spending the morning in kid-care and may actually be able to do something that involves them for a change.  So they are being adorable in the lobby.  Making cute faces at the little old ladies at the high top tables who are enjoying their complementary coffees. (Oh, yes and yesser!  My Y has coffee!)

I'm sitting on a couch directly across from these little old ladies.  My youngest is on my right and my son is bouncing on the couch to my left.  "Don't do that, you're gonna hurt yourself." passively slips from my lips.  This phrase is seriously on  repeat in my brain.  Mostly, because anything my son does involves an immediate trip to the ER.

So I'm watching my youngest who is right beside me as I make mental notes of all the places my son is running to in my peripheral.

Side note:  I have taken a break from Facebook and email and overall checking my phone for anything but phone calls while I am with my kids.  It has come to my attention that even though my children are semi-independent they are still without good judgment when it comes to things like falling or physics in general.  So I have made a conscious decision to be more attentive to my children.

Facebook, please, I am trying to parent.

All the good it does me.  Out of the corner of my eye I watch my son pull so hard on one of these high top tables that the whole thing comes down directly on top of him.  (Remember my post last week about what an awesome mom I am?  Yeah, I'm pretty sure this is pay back)

My first thought is, Oh my God I just witnessed my son being decapitated.  For sure the whole table came down on his neck and now I'm going to have to stab him with an emptied out pen directly in the trachea just so he can get air to his lungs before the ambulance gets there.  But no, thank God, it just came down on his face.  Whew!  That was a close one.  

The little old ladies jump up to help him as I literally jump from the couch I was on and fly to the area of the floor that my son in now lying on flat on his back with a twenty pound table on top of him.  They tell me, "He's totally fine!  There isn't even any blood!" as I raise him from the floor covered in this now mysterious red liquid flowing from his nose.

He is screaming like a banshee, which everyone knows is normal, and points at his face.  I'm thinking he gashed the inside of his mouth, he's teeth are shattered, his nose is broken.  At first glance, he looks alright but after a quick call to the pediatrician we realize that a concussion is now in the runnings for life threatening injuries.

After filling out an incident report at the Y, (Yeah, it was that bad)  I rush him over to the pediatricians. I gotta make it fast since I gotta get my oldest at school in an hour.  Is it bad that the first thing I said to one of the girls at the Y was that I didn't have time to take him to the ER again?

At the Doctors, Directly after.

later that day.  After Motrin, mind you.

that's not his tongue, that's his lip.

 Turns out my sons face is not only beautiful, but also made out of titanium.  Nothing was wrong.  No concussion, no stitches needed, no teeth knocked out.  Just one really fat lip...  I mean the thing was out past his nose... for like 4 days.  It's better now.

The moral of the story?  It doesn't matter if you play Words With Friends or Facebook or Pintrest or not.  Your kid is still gonna hurt himself.  At least you won't be able to see the damage happen before your very eyes while you're trying to get that high score.

Antenella