Today has been a terrible day. And I haven’t even had lunch yet.
I was going to say it all started when the six year-old jumped into my bed while I was still asleep to loudly ask which one of his siblings he could go play with and when I told him they were all still sleeping (just like I had been mere moments before) he started crying, which woke up the four year-old who ran into the room, grabbed the dog and bit him on the ear (yes, the BOY bit the DOG) which made him yelp which woke up the rest of the house.
My children keeping it real.
But then I realized that wasn’t actually where it all started. It might have started in the wee hours of the morning when The Baby fell out of his toddler bed and required soothing. Or maybe a couple hours before that when Brian and I were having a major fight (somewhat of a rarity in our marriage since one of us is a conflict avoider. . . and that clearly isn’t me). Or it could have been an hour before THAT when after being sent back to bed for the fourth time Josh (the six year-old) started openly weeping in his bed and when I asked him what was wrong he told me that he was sad that when he grows up the dog will probably be dead. Still haven’t figured out how to correctly comfort a child through the future loss of their pet. But it probably started even before that when Danny (the four year-old) melted down like that guy from that Indiana Jones movie (you know what I’m talking about) right before our eyes, but instead of the flesh melting off his face, it was slightly more subtle. I mean, if you consider it “subtle” when your child starts yelling during church, pitches a fit about having to go to Children’s Church, then pitches a fit about not being allowed to go to Children’s Church, then after promising to be good ends up being a terror in Children’s Church. . . it was not happy times last night.
I could get into all the specifics of why today was also not a good day (potty-training child peed while diaperless and being held by Mommy, everybody insisted the perfectly lovely breakfast was inedible, obnoxious basement toys were brought up to the living room creating a huge mess and loud noises, everyone forgot there are options besides crying if you are having a feeling, etc.), but suffice to say that it is one of those days I will not be documenting in their baby books and is not worth cherishing. Did I mention school starts tomorrow and I had high hopes this would be a sweet last day of time together? At this point I’m pretty sure we’re going to go tent out in front of the school like it’s a new Chick-Fil-A opening so this beloved child of mine can be deposited with his lovely teacher as soon as humanly possible.
I would love to give you “3 Easy Ways to Cherish Your Children Instead of Wanting to Drop Them Off With Grandma and Flee the Country Like You’re a Vietnam Draft Dodger”, but on this exact day I’m all out of wisdom. And in the back of my mind I can hear some nice lady saying, “Oh, they grow up so fast” and I want to punch her in the throat. On days like today I don’t think they grow up nearly fast enough. I know I’ve cried over the video clips of my sweet sleeping babies and I wonder where the time has gone, but I’m starting to think I actually need to pull out the camera and document days like today. That would be a nice reminder to count my blessings when they’re all old enough that they’re no longer urinating directly on me. Just like the paperwork of adoption and the pain of labor, we forget how terrible childhood is after it’s over. It’s all a blur of their sweet sleepy heads on our shoulders, and bath time giggles, and “I wuv you, Mommy”. Thank goodness. Someday when I’m dropping them off at college (Lord willing) I will not be able to remember what it feels like when a child rams a shopping cart into the back of your ankles or the utter desperation of being woken up in the night for a fourth time. It will all have gone by “so quickly” and I’ll wish I could relive it all because I will have become an idiot and forgotten what exactly “it all” entails.
So here’s a note to Future Me Who Has Become Forgetful: part of this whole motherhood thing was awful. Truly awful. Some days you wanted to cry and you felt totally inadequate. You self-medicated with candy you swore you only bought for the kids. You called your friends, hoping things were as terrible at their house even though you told them how sorry you were when you found out it was true. You absolutely loved your kids even in the midst of it, but keeping your cool required all of your focus so sometimes you forgot to brush their teeth. . . or yours.
Future Me, don’t invalidate how hard this is by being overly sentimental when you’re talking to young moms. Remind them that this isn’t hard because they’re bad moms, this is hard BECAUSE they’re good ones. Bad moms don’t know or don’t care. Good moms want to do this thing right so badly and want their kids to grow up to be people of character, so they get frustrated when it appears they are raising the next generation of suspects who will appear on “Cops.” Asking moms to cherish every minute because soon it will be over feels kind of like asking them to really embrace that splinter in their foot because it will be gone so fast. Obviously there are beautiful moments with our kids and those moments FAR outweigh the hard ones, but some moments some hours some days some seasons really have to be endured far more than they are cherished. It’s really hard for a mom to find joy in every situation unless she learns it’s okay to express when things are hard. Joy can be had regardless of our circumstances, but the pressure to be some kind of Mary Poppins Pinterest Perfect version of ourselves can make us wish we never got out of bed (if that were an option) on days like today.
As I tell my kids on a near daily basis, (along with my other classic phrases, “If it’s not yours, don’t touch it”, “Only food goes in mouths”, and “Nobody likes it when you do that”) “I love you when you’re good and I love you when you’re naughty. There’s NOTHING you can do that will make me stop loving you.” Even on days like today I love them so fiercely that I’d do whatever it takes to protect them. I’d lay down my life. But the romantic idea of “laying down your life” is a far cry from what laying down your life in motherhood actually looks like. Today it looks like getting nothing done because I’ve been handing out consistent discipline. It means setting down my agenda and to-dos so justice is given fairly and mercy is given graciously. It means we didn’t leave the house because we needed to focus on behavioral issues and learning to be the kind of people who know how to handle themselves outside this house. It means EVERYBODY takes a nap today. EVERYBODY. This is the practical letting go of the ideal of motherhood and embracing the real of motherhood.
Time to get some lunch.
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