Despite what you may read here/draw conclusions from, I do kind of agonize over my blog. I don't want to be too 1. Annoying 2. Gooshy-touchie-feely 3. Open.
So, it is with trepidation that I blog the following:
Today, at naptime, all three children were hollering.
Spencer because he wanted to drink chocolate milk before bed. (Even though he had just finished his lunch.)
Henry because he didn't want to wait for Dinosaur Train whilst I laid the other two down.
Oliver because it was Zantac-time, he was tired, wet and ready for nursing and sleeping.
So, I dealt with each from youngest to oldest.
And then started all over again.
Spencer has NEVER thrown such a tantrum in his life. He was just.sobbing. Over chocolate milk. Or just because he was tired, I'm not sure. I held him, rocking him, was stern with him, left him alone, but to no avail. He cried great, heaping, choking sobs that were simply unheard of. It was incredible.
Meanwhile, Dinosaur Train ENDED causing Henry great anguish. TIVO quickly averted that disaster.
Then Oliver woke up again, crying like his little life was over. Nursing fixed that problem.
Finally, I returned to Spencer.
I went in, intending to inform him of my wrath. But there he was, standing up in his little crib, arms outstretched, hiccuping with misery.
"Stop crying!" I demanded. And he whimpered and hiccupped and snot ran from his nose. And my heart softened, liquified is perhaps a better term.
I don't know WHY he was so miserable today. He is not normally a fit-throwing kind of kid. I picked up my big, sweet baby and held him for a moment, while he shook.
Finally, I went with what popped into my head. "Want to take a nap in HENRY'S bed?" That did it.
I sat next to him while he drifted away in Henry's bed. What a treat for him! I held him little hand and watched him fall asleep. I laid my head next to his dirty little toes and just watched.
Suddenly, he mumbled, "Mommy." I looked up, he was asleep, but still, once more, just a whisper. "Mommy" and he sighed and stirred no more.
It hit me, hard. Kind of like someone picked up a rock and cracked me over the head with it.
I have NOT been a good mom.
I'm not saying that as a "woe is me, I need validation" way either. It is simply truth. I have sucked it up so bad.
I mean, three kids has been hard, Oliver's issues have finally been explained, but that does not excuse the fact that I have stunk up this whole gig.
I love my children with my whole heart, so much that it literally hurts me. I can barely even imagine a life without each of them. And I haven't been doing a good job. I've been phoning it in, going through the motions and I can't believe how long I've been getting away with it. My poor babies.
I've excused myself with, "I'm so tired! I don't sleep" BLAH BLAH BLAH. Mommy guilt is something powerful, and it has crashed down upon me with full force today people.
I am so slow to catch on to things, it is positively embarrassing. It does not matter if my dishes are done, or if the laundry is folded, not if it means that my children are paying for it.
(I'm trying to not be melodramatic, by the way, truly.)
So, I'm pledging to be better. To not just love my children but to cherish them, to be grateful for each moment I have with them. To awake with a smile, no matter WHAT time it is. I have very little time with them, in reality, and I will not waste another second feeling sorry for myself.
I am blessed.
I am their mother.
And I thank God for that.