It has been longer between posts lately because I only want to post when inspired. I’ve been waiting on a memory or thought that led me to something I wanted to write about. I almost gave up and just posted about something in the mommy world, and I even asked my facebook friends for suggestions. I like the suggestions I got, but my inspiration came first…In the form of a four (almost five) person meltdown. Fridays are usually a good day for me. The workweek is over, and I know I have time to just spend with my children, actually clean a little, and wash a few hundred loads of laundry. It’s my catch up time, and I don’t have to feel the guilt of being a working mother, which is a struggle for me. (I’ll post about this eventually, too.) However, with the upcoming Christmas season, I’m beginning to feel the stress of many things to do. I’m the main present shopper around here, not because my husband refuses to, but because he would buy every single gift we needed in one single trip. I can’t handle that kind of pressure. I have to find the perfect gift for everyone that is meaningful or needed, much like I need to be inspired before I can post to my blog. That takes time and at least four solid shopping trips (online shopping helps with this). It’s harder to get away to shop when your kids are with sitters all week. We feel like our three regular sitters are tapped out, so we are currently looking for a sitter who we can pay occasionally to keep our kids. However, it’s not easy to find someone who can handle them all at once. Teenagers who are good with children could do two at a time, or even all three for an hour or two, but not for the length of a shopping trip. AND then there is the guilt of yet another day away from my children (even though I’m primarily shopping for them, not that they know, care, or want me too….)
Anyway, so instead of feeling relieved at 3:05, the end of my workday, (see why I don’t quit my job?) I felt stressed, with a million mile long list of things to do. I came home to three kids who for over a week have been impossibly grumpy. It seems they can hold it together for the sitters, but when I get home, they want me. Don’t get me wrong, I want them too, it’s just I’m one mere woman with only two arms, and now that they are bigger, I can’t hold everyone at once in a way that makes them satisfied. What’s even harder is that 30 minutes of snuggling per child just isn’t enough for them. They don’t understand my need to cook, clean, or even just rest sometimes. My husband is awesome with this situation. He holds our children when he feels they need it, or when he wants to play or cuddle, but he refuses to let them monopolize his entire being. He puts them in their bouncy seat when their needs for a bottle, diaper, or snuggle are met and bounces it gently with his foot. If sitting them down makes them cry, he continues to do it until they stop, however long it takes. I try this, but it just doesn’t work for me. I can’t listen to it for as long as he can, so I usually give in first. They know this of course.
When we had Princess, my lifestyle changed much more than Dean’s. I insisted on being the primary caretaker so that he didn’t have to sacrifice his second job, farming, at all. He loves to farm. He’s a very natural worker. He actually likes building fences and stuff, and I didn’t ever want him to resent Princess (or me) for having to scale back. Now, he did have to make some changes, of course, but they weren’t that bad. I almost went insane, but….
This time, however, we both knew that couldn’t be the case. Three kids, a three year old and baby twins specifically, is a lot. It’s hard to keep them by yourself, and it’s impossible to do it around the clock. We split it however we have to. When I have things I need or want to do, he stays in. When I don’t, he works as hard as he can. I try to make sure I accomplish as much as I can as quickly as possible when I’m away. The farm has suffered a little, but we try to make sure he does what is necessary when it is necessary. We want this to be a family farm, so the idea is to begin incorporating our children into the farming process as they become old enough to do so. Princess already knows more about types of grass than I do (not that it’s too hard to do so), and she loves to go farming with her dad and papaw. We want that for all of our children, a general understanding of nature and an appreciation for God’s creations. I truly want to give them that, but sometimes I wish Dean’s hours weren’t so long, or that I could be outside with him (or outside anywhere for that matter). I appreciate his sacrifices, and I try to acknowledge it as much as possible. However, that age old “I do more than you do” fight sometimes creeps into our hearts. We don’t say it, but we both know that is what the other person is thinking or saying.
It all hit the fan this Friday. I came home feeling stressed to grumpy babies. My mom had them, so she stayed for about two extra hours trying to help me. (As a side note, Dean is my soul mate in life, but my mother is my kindred spirit, a phrase stolen from Anne of Green Gables, which means someone who understands your spirit and disposition completely, you know, someone like you.) More than anyone, my mom can look at a situation and know how I will react. This means that when the situation looks like one that will stress me out, she sacrifices her own sanity to stay with me. I love my mother in a very obsessive special way. I don’t know why the connection is how it is, but she can read my mind, and I can usually read hers. She stayed as long as she could and helped me try to situate everyone. She even ended up taking a grumpy Princess with her, who, in tears, claimed she never got to go anywhere (to which we both added in our minds “because of the twins and everyone’s inability to do with me and for me like they used to, which isn’t my fault and I’m only 3”). I know, I know, she probably doesn’t feel that way…but she might. She helped me get the twins to sleep before she left, and told me she’d bring Princess back after taking her home with her, then out to dinner (which she later called and invited us to), and then buying her a toy she’d been bribing her to behave with all afternoon. That is my mom. It’s how she works. I don’t remember being bribed as a child, but I digress…
After mom left, my afternoon went like this. I began washing bottles as she walked to her car. Before I could even finish, Tank woke up and began crying. I picked him up, fixed him a bottle, and tried to feed him and get him back to sleep. As he finished his bottle and drifted off, Tinker woke up and started crying. I laid him down, and picked Tinker up. He woke up immediately and starting crying again. She refused her bottle and screamed. I calmed them each individually, for the next…however long it was until Dean came home. We had been invited to dinner with my parents, Princess, and my father’s mentor who was in to visit. Even though it had been a rough afternoon, I was afraid I wouldn’t get to see Mr. D. before he left if we didn’t go. So, though neither of us felt like it was a good idea, we decided to go. Dean was trying to relax for a couple of minutes (literally) before starting to get ready, but I was struggling with the babies. Eventually he made a simple comment that I took the wrong way and snapped at. He reacted badly to my bad reaction, and that thought from the devil (you know, the “I do more than you do” one) crept into our minds. We have learned to recover quickly, apologize, explain what we meant opposed to what the other person heard, and remind ourselves of all the other person does. It is still frustrating though, that we just can’t control ourselves for those moments before we say something we shouldn’t. We both live very full lives and stay tired (the twins each still get up a minimum of once a night each, but often twice), but we don’t want to excuse ourselves from bad behavior. By the time we were in the car, we had made up and moved on, but I felt defeated. I hated myself for once again failing as a wife. God gave me Dean first, so I should make him a priority. My children are a product of our love and commitment, but it’s so easy for parents to forget that and put their children in place of that relationship. I constantly pray to God for Him to help me love Dean like I should as a Godly wife, and for him to help me not make my children an idol in my life. (I struggled with this more when Princess was a baby that I do now, but I don’t ever want to forget the dangers of it.) Careful new mommies, it’s so easy to get too wrapped up in your child and start worshipping them with you constant attention, praise, and thoughts. Don’t forget that our God gave us those children to help us understand the kind of love He feels for us, and we better not replace Him with them, His creation. Don’t get me wrong, love your children to the height of your ability, but don’t knock God or you husband out of their places in order to do it. This is easy to do because our children need us; they legitimately have to be attended to, so it’s easy to stop doing other things, like praying or doing for your husband what you did before.
All of these thoughts and ideas made me feel even worse. I hated myself for a few minutes in a very real and scary way. I hated that I had let my stress of the week make me irritable when trying to take care of my children. I hated that I had let a stressful afternoon with my babies make me react badly to my husband. I hated that Princess had wanted to leave even though she hadn’t seen me all day, and deep down, I hated myself for being relieved that I would only have to fight two of them by myself for the next couple of hours when I felt like I should want all three of them there whether grumpy or not. It’s a dark place, ladies, fight it off and don’t go there. Pray yourself through it, do the best you can, (which might not be good enough in your own opinion) and forgive yourself for not being Superwoman. That’s what I’m trying to do right now…
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