Mother's Day

It's Mother's Day. I should be counting my blessings. But instead I find myself unsettled and dealing with some raw not so beautiful emotions. 

We hear it all the time, "they will only be little once", "cherish these fleeting moments", or "you will miss these days once they are gone." While all of that may be true, it is a difficult perspective to take when you are struggling to parent, when you feel like you are failing in most aspects of living. This is not a sympathy post. I do not want an iota of sympathy. This is just me talking about those real feelings that I wrestle with and surely am not alone in. 

You may know what I'm talking about (or you may not) but I liken it to feeling trapped and alone even though I'm surrounded. Their constant demands. You think that would make one not feel lonely, right? Considering I am never, ever alone. In fact, I find myself longing for just that, alone time. Odd for someone who feels lonely. I'm very aware that some may be thinking, sheesh maybe you shouldn't have had so many kids or perhaps you should get back to counting your blessings. Sometimes what we know in our heads doesn't always align with our hearts. Do I love them? Absolutely, to pieces. If I'm honest though, there are parts of my being that wants to wish these days away. Selfish, huh. 

Sometimes I long for the days where my every movement is not dictated by my little people. What is that like? Then I wonder, perhaps if I had a day job (you know, one that involves leaving my house) then I would miss them and provide more quality attention. Quality over quantity. It seems like a great idea. It's complicated though. I remember the days of dropping my oldest off at daycare every morning. He cried. every. single. day. Then I drove to work, tears streaming down my face, full of guilt. I wanted nothing more than to be with my baby all day. We made some sacrifices and were able to make that happen. Then popped three more precious ones out rapid fire. We're still not sure how that happened 😉

Staying home became a necessity at that point. And that's where I've been the past 5 years. Don't get me wrong, my babies bring me immense joy. I love seeing their smiles. I love watching them play and learn and excel. I love shopping for them, much more than I do myself. There is also a sense of not being enough though. I'm not the mom that I want to be. I'm the tired, stressed, empty mom often times. Like there is just nothing more to give. Don't worry, I'll never run out of hugs and kisses for them! It's more of an emotional/mental nothing left to give. I can still meet basic needs so please put the red flag down. It's just that I so desperately want my own space. In those moments of peace and quiet though I often end up looking at pictures of them, ha. It's kind of strange how our mommy hearts work. 

So 10 years from now will I be kicking myself, wishing they were little again? Probably so. At least that's what everyone says. But can you really experience what you haven't yet experienced? I'm pretty sure that's a negative. Otherwise I could turn this attitude around in an instant. I'm supposed to look back and think "those were the days..." in my mind it reads "those were the days I just about pulled my hair out and we barely survived." 

My mom... somehow she did this whole motherhood thing with such grace. I don't remember her losing her ever loving mind with us once. How is that even possible?! She didn't yell, make threats, or fall apart. Not that I can remember. She was and is so steadfast, so patient, so kind, so humble. Never haughty or rude. She definitely embodies the fruits of the spirit. That must be where the answer lies. Leaning on, trusting in God. Laying it all at His feet, over and over again.