We’ve been dealing with a lot, then, to top it off, one of our two cats, the one who eagerly slips out the door every chance given, got hit in front of our home. So, we are nursing her on top of our other family strain.
There is a wonderful lady that is helping me, she dropped off a homeopathic remedy to me. I was feeling stressed. I’ve been feeling stressed. I’ve been feeling tired. I have even struggled with “why did we bring children in to this world of pain and loss”? Today, I also dealt with moments of wanting to lay in a puddle while crying on the floor. My baby has been crying a lot, screaming at me for not picking him up or for telling him “no”. He has an ear piercing scream, the kind that cuts through all of your thoughts and makes it harder to function.
We also have a particular 4 year old, one who blows his top at the blowing of the wind or melts to the floor over seemingly nothing. We were having a “freezer food” night, corn dogs and french fries, and my boy sometimes likes to have a smiley face made on the top of his ketchup with mustard, but sometimes not.
In the midst of my chaos, while I was getting our brood to the table, this wonderful woman stopped by to drop off the homeopathic remedy that she was bringing to me. As we talked, I had to interrupt her to let Mr. 4 year old know that one plate had the mustard face and one didn’t so he could choose what he wanted with his corn dog.
In that moment, I knew something. Even through my failings, even as this very day I had dealt with hidden food among the dirty dishes on the counter that had turned in to something completely different, a screaming baby that was only happy when he was held by me, extra kids, extra stress, an injured cat, a broken heart from a beloved family member’s sudden death, and the extra stress makes me grumpy, even in all of that, I had done something so silly as make a mustard face in the ketchup for my son, for our son.
I may not always perform well under pressure (I’ve recently decided that stress and grief make me grace-less) but I’m not failing. I know that she thought that I was doing okay because for a moment I could see me through her eyes. I’m not perfect, not grace-full as I struggle through my own grief while attempting to still mom, but I’m not worthless, and I’m not failing. I’m trying to do the best I can while hoping to do it a little better tomorrow.
Hope for tomorrow. Seeing myself through her compassionate eyes for a moment has given me hope for tomorrow.
Night Mommas. Give yourself a break as you try to navigate parenting with living and growing as an adult in this mad, mad world.