Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Get a Grip

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I've been brainstorming in my head how I wanted to recap yesterday's 'mom fail' day, but it turned out sounding like a huge martyr me, fishing for compliments, pity party.  Oh puh-lease.  Yes, I threw a tantrum yesterday morning after Joe left because I must've woken up on the wrong side of the bed and coming downstairs to a dirty kitchen didn't help my mood and trying to reason with two screaming toddlers finally pushed me over the edge.  It doesn't help that all the boys do these days is call for Daddy, which contributes ten-fold to my feelings of inadequacy as a mother.  But to be honest, after seeing their psycho mom in action I'd cry for Daddy too.  However, after taking a time-out and eating my oatmeal outside (yes, it was 40 degrees) on the deck and gulping my quickly-growing-cold coffee, we loaded up into the car and volunteered at church where I was forced to put on a happy face and just get over things.  Because let's face it, everyone has 'those kind of days' and what's so special about mine?!?!

Then last night happened.  Joe and I foolishly crawled into bed well after midnight.  I'd like to say that we had a romantic in-home date night, but really I was at a meeting until 9:30; Joe worked in the garage; and then we stayed up folding four loads of laundry, watching HGTV, and playing Words With Friends.  And right as we  settled into bed Gavin started stirring and began his restless party that lasted until after 2:00am.  Usually I'm the one that gets up with the boys, and honestly, sometimes those late night snuggles are sweet and priceless, so I don't mind swaying in place or sitting in the dark listening to their rhythmic breaths and watching the clock flip its numbers.  But lately Joe has started going in their room because now when they wake up it's, "Daaa-eeee!"  Sigh.  He must have the magic touch, because Gavin's fussiness escalated to full blown screaming as I attempted to settle him back down, so in utter frustration I handed him off to Joe, huffed out of the room, and slammed our bedroom door.  Then Garrett woke up.  Awesome.  Mom fail again.  Wife fail too.  And let me mention that as Joe worked his magic I read my People magazine only to stumble across a movie review about a mother who never bonded with her son and he became a serial killer.  Oh geeze.

Joe left for working this morning after asking me, "You going to be ok today?"  He won't be home till late tonight because more Jeep duty calls in the garage ("Garage Widow" post coming soon).  But yea, I'll be ok even though a dad of teenage twins looked me in the eye today and said, "It's just going to get harder, you know."  This transpired, of course, as I was trying to prevent the boys from head butting each other as they sat in the shopping cart at the grocery store - one that's being remodeled so nothing is in its place and I just needed to find the damn cereal aisle for a box of overpriced Cracklin' Oat Bran that I happen to love.  Actually, I'll be better than ok.  Because despite the few things that tick me off during the day, there are far more things for which I'm grateful, especially perspective.

I'm grateful that my boys have a "Daaaa-eee" to scream for.  Joe is a super hands on, loving, fun, supportive, and considerate dad (and husband too).  In the last twelve hours I've heard of two families who suddenly lost their young dads and husbands.  And I just read an article suggesting that parents of multiples have a higher divorce rate. Unimaginable.  But it happens.

I'm grateful that I can go to the grocery store to buy ingredients for a new 'super green' smoothie recipe we want to try today.  And that I can splurge on overpriced cereal sometimes.  And that the boys ate all of their breakfast today instead of throwing it across the dining room.

I'm grateful that the boys held my hand today and walked like little men into church this morning instead of running off like wild monkeys or flopping on the ground like fish out of water.

I'm grateful that we have a yard where my boys can run around even if they are supposed to be walking inside so we can get lunch going.

I'm grateful that when Gavin fell off the brick wall in our neighbor's yard it wasn't actually an injury-inducing one, but a tumble that just scared him.  And I'm grateful that I have two healthy boys who can run and laugh at all because some parents aren't so lucky.

I'm grateful for the ladies in my church group this morning who reminded me this morning that I am indeed accountable for my actions; that there's no need to gossip about others or indulge them in my own woes; and I should never tire of doing good.  But I'm also grateful for having friends that let me vent.  We're all only human.

I'm grateful that I came across this today:

Let us not lose heart.  On tough days you've got to have heart.  Don't quit.  Persevere.  Stand firm.  Be strong, resilient, determined to see it through.  Work on building a protective shield around your heart, stabilizing you.

It sounds like it pertains to a big goal, overcoming a huge obstacle, or one's mantra for life.  I find it most applicable in my everyday interactions with my kids.  I even told my friend I should pin the phrase to their backs or write it on their foreheads.  Because being a mom is a big ever-changing goal with lots of obstacles and the role of a lifetime.

And I'm grateful for good naps today so that I can sit in my silent house, regroup, get a grip, put on my big girl panties, and move on.  Woe is me.  Oh puh-lease. 

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