This blog has grown dusty over the past several weeks.
It's not as though I haven't many a thing to say. Quite the contrary, actually...as though there's just too much to say. Life for us lately has been deep. Full. Constant. And I do absolutely adore my life. I wouldn't trade it for anything in this world. I'm blessed...I know. I'm reminded daily with smooches and laughter; moments of joy and grace.
But today I found myself locked in the bathroom, crying, while my babies bellowed at the door for me. I haven't found myself in that place for a long time. That place of defeat. Of all emotional strength depleted. I had two words to share with God amidst my refuge of piled dirty laundry and stench of soiled diapers. "I can't do this anymore!!!" Yup. I told Him, alright. (I'm pretty sure I heard Him laugh.)
This winter has been a long one. Cold. So very cold. And snow...so much snow. The first few moths I soaked the beauty in; basking in the complexity of each individual snowflake; enjoying the blanket of each fresh snowfall. And then February and March came. Along with more snow, and more cold. Our house has seen more fevers, experienced more bodily fluids and gone through more ibuprofen this winter than it has in a long time. Sick twin toddlers have been steadily determined to build up their immunities. With the boys entering the "terrible two's", and teenage, hormonal girls struggling to coexist with one another, it's been challenging. To say the least. Homeschooling has become full of frustration as I attempt to teach new things; all-the-while entertaining and snuggling two little active fellas. For the record: it is NOT ideal to teach algebra with one wailing child on your lap. It. Just. Doesn't. Work. The children are pent up and frustrated; this Mama has reached the very end. It was a terrible combination for just the perfect storm. Hubs came home for lunch to find Mama red and puffy-eyed, and children a bit wide-eyed at her unusually quiet, sulking demeanor. I think he was fearful to ask at first. When he did ask, I think he may have regretted it just a tiny bit...because it may or may not have unleashed the mighty Niagara.
Now, there are a few things I am certain of. For one...I do absolutely love the life I've been given. The challenges are all par for the course. Five kids is not easy. I get that. Two...homeschooling is a blessing. While I've questioned this fact momentarily (and circumstantially), I always come back to the same answer. It's what we ought to be doing, because it's what we feel is best for us as a family. Three....and perhaps the hardest to admit....while I know we should be homeschooling, I also know I should be doing it better. Which is where I shall refer you back to paragraph one, where I'm prostrate on my bathroom floor, sobbing like a baby in defeat.
Mama's guilt is so strong. In the past few months, I've found myself more than once wide awake at 3:00 in the morning, unable to sleep because my mind is racing with doubts. Am I doing good by my kids? Am I sacrificing the future for them by failing in the present? AM I ENOUGH? My stomach burns with the weight of responsibility that comes with mothering these five precious lives. And when I am forced to inaudibly respond to these questions that grip me in the dark; I find myself coming up short with each and every one. In my heart of hearts, I know that something has to change. I know that in four very short years, our eldest daughter will be set loose, should she so choose. And though it shouldn't...it terrifies me. Already. I know how fast time goes by, so I fully grasp that four years just may feel like four days. That kind of pressure is subconsciously consuming me. I know the things that I do now matter in her future. It's never been more tangible. I want to do the best I can by her, for her...for all of them.
And while my thoughts attempt to balance these things, my hands are busy with the present work before me. Math lessons to get through, diapers to be changed, dinners to be made, frustrated toddlers to be soothed. There is no stopping, and there seems to be little letting up. And then melt-down-Mama happened. Knowing that I'm simply not much good to anyone within four feet of me today, and that just one more poopy diaper might break the mighty Niagara wide open again, I dismissed the normal ebb and flow of life today to contemplate. Sometimes, you just need to step away from life to asses where it is that you're at, and where you want to go. Blogging is one of those tools for me. (I also selfishly want some evidence for my kids of what really was going on the day they thought Mom lost her mind.) And so, this afternoon; in between settling sisterly disputes and appeasing hungry boys and planning what to make for dinner....I will take time. To work on changing the things that are within my power to change. To settle this storm that so badly wants to rage. To look upwards to problem-solve (instead of inward...like I so often do). To breathe and remind myself that it's all going to be okay. Even if the very definition of "okay" doesn't line up with "perfect". Coming to grips with your own failures and imperfections as a mom, and knowing that there's very little chance of "doing life" perfectly...humbling. And it kinda makes me want to retreat to the bathroom again for another temper-tantrum.
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