In general, it wasn't a difficult day...except that we abandoned a cart full of things at Target because Will was yelling to the store what an awful mom I was for not letting him ride at the bottom.
And then when we got home, he whacked his little brother in the head with a plastic frying pan.
And after nap time, I had to call poison control because he decided to pour himself a rather large dose of Children's Tylenol.
(Not to worry--he was fine. And pain free for at least the rest of the day.)
My children are not any more trying than yours--that's just kids. And even though I often feel like the only mom screwing up on a daily basis, I have to believe I'm not alone.
But when both boys woke up from naps, I found myself completely exhausted.
I wanted to crawl into bed and sleep until Tuesday.
I wanted to rest my body, my mind, my heart.
Because even though you and I are so alike, "I" feel like I am screwing up.
All the time.
I feel darkness hanging over us as my hands raise in the air and I scream, "I don't know what I'm doing! Please send an instruction manual, or get me a guy named Tom in India who can tell me how to reset and reboot!"
It can be overwhelming.
Is anyone out there with me?
So in the midst of putting ice on foreheads, and talking to Robert at Poison Control (he was no Indian Tom, but he did help), I passed by my bedroom.
And I saw this.
My crumpled bed, in my messy room, bathed in this sea of brightness, as if it were calling to me, "I'm here. You can rest. Be warm. Fill up with love. Recharge."
I didn't take up Her offer (because my bed is a she, duh).
But I did take the opportunity to reflect--in however brief a moment--that I am enough.
One deep breath in and one really, heavy, weight-releasing sigh out.
That even in my darkest moments of being a mom, I am my kids' light, and they are mine.
That they seek me to rest and soothe and recharge. And sometimes, although it isn't my bed, curling up with them and tousling their hair and reading a book is all it takes to do the same for me.
If only these moments came more frequently.
There will be days when I'll long to have them this small...and in those days, I'll feel rested.
Light.
Maybe.
I second-guess myself every day. Am I spending enough time with them? Am I allowing them enough independence? Are they learning enough? Will they still love me when they are teenagers? Why do I yell so much? Are any of my parenting techniques accomplishing anything but sheer frustration for me and them?
ReplyDeleteI hope it's only natural to ask ourselves all these questions, and to wonder constantly whether we are doing it all right or wrong. But as you mention, it's the small moments... when they are sweet and all is quiet and they just smell so good and they are snuggled up close... that get me through and slightly reassure me that our little family is doing OK in the world.
There's no one way "to do it right." So all we can do is try and then learn and above all else, love. And I know you are doing a kick-ass job at that, my dear. Our love is our light. :)