being a mom

 

There are times that as a mom I believe I’ve got this. More often than not, I feel like I am the worst mom ever. Especially as a homeschooling mom, more often than not I feel like a failure. You’re 3-year-old is reading chapter books, and my 9-year-old is still struggling with his letters. Obviously, I’m the worst mom ever. The internet says so. Let’s not take into consideration that my 9-year-old is hard of hearing and dyslexic and we work hard every day. Obviously, I’m ruining his life.

And those are the thoughts I have on a daily basis minus the last sentence. I feel like I am failing my boys every day of the week. And it doesn’t even matter that my hard of hearing, dyslexic on his own last week knew a lower case b over a d, p, or q. (And if you know anything about dyslexia, you know what a mile stone this was!) I never feel good enough, that I’m doing enough, that they know enough. I always fall short in my head. It doesn’t matter that my 7-year-old can properly pronounce dinosaur names that my grandma didn’t even knew existed until he told her.  I feel like I am failing them on a regular basis, all day every day.

And maybe that feeling of failure is because I want so much for them (because I want SO MUCH FOR THEM!). Maybe it’s because every time someone asks me (or the boys) what grade they are in or who their teacher is or where they go to school, I cringe waiting for the negative comment. For the record, no one has ever said one bad thing to me about homeschooling. Most of them are super supportive and don’t even understand how it works. I know its me. I know that its me expecting them to think it’s the dumbest, worst thing they’ve ever heard and they are all so supportive. I’ve had people I thought were going to be negative tell me they wished they would have homeschooled.

And in case all that wasn’t enough, about a month ago I went from a stay at home mom to a working mom. I love my job. I am bartending at a beach bar where my kids are more than welcome. My boys know everyone there by name and their favorite thing is that they get to go swimming in the pond every day this summer. The hours that I work are super family friendly and where I work prides itself on being a family center so we don’t have to worry about drunk idiots stumbling around or fights breaking out. These are our people who buy my boys ice cream while I’m behind the bar. I would not have this job if it caused damage to my marriage or my children. I love my afternoon old men.

And then we come to tonight. I have been working this job for almost 5 weeks and we all love it (me, the boys, and my husband.). I noticed yesterday Connor, my youngest, had a stuffy nose. He didn’t have a fever. He played like he was a rock star. I gave him medicine for his nose.

And then we did it all over again tonight, only tonight I worked until 9 instead of 5. And then we got home and my baby was coughing and choking and I fell apart. A year and a half ago, Connor and I spent 4 hours at the ER because he was struggling to breathe. He went home with a nebulizer and medication. We are still using both today. We used them both tonight.

And as my baby is sitting snuggled up to me with a breathing mask on and medicines pumping into his lungs because every breath is a struggle, I again thing of what a bad mom I must be. A good mom would have stayed home with him and kept him home today. It doesn’t matter that he was fine earlier and had an amazing time playing in the water today.

And then I think about my mom. She had asthma so bad as practically a baby that she has to get shots for it. My mom has a dent in her arm from all the shots she had to get to keep her breathing. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been told that what my mom had skips a generation so my brothers and I need to watch for it. And tonight as my baby struggled and had tears rolling down his face as we cuddled while he had his breathing treatment, I again felt like a terrible mother.

Should I have been watching closer for this? Is this my fault (genetically)? Was it better when I stayed home with you (even though you go with me every day to work)?

I have so much doubt. And then I think and remember all God is doing with us. I’ve talked before about His plan and how I could never understand it. And today is a prime example, because I feel like a failure and I know this is His plan. I need to trust more. TRUST MORE!

There are so many more things going on in our lives right now than I have even wrote about tonight. And it’s so funny to me that me and my husband are on the same God page. This is a path. It hurts. It’s hard. It’s right. Happy Father’s Day this Sunday. My Father in Heaven has a plan and there is a reason we are right here, right now. I’m all in on faith, God. We are all, all in on faith, God.

Please pray for me and my family. If you have something, anything, you want my family to be praying for please leave a comment and know we will pray for you.

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A Mom of Sick Kids or a Zombie? You Decide.

We had a big day planned for today. Our downtown bookstore was having their monthly game day where you can go and play the board games they sell. Then the boys were having a sleepover with Grandpa and Grandma. My husband and I had a big night out planned (which probably meant being at home asleep by nine since we are wild and crazy.).

Oh, how things never seem to go according to plans. I had been asleep for about an hour when Connor started throwing up. Not to be outdone, Cameron then began to throw up as well.

Grabbing buckets, towels, wash clothes, and clean pillows, I settled down with them and slept for about ten minutes or so before one or the other was sick again.

Dump buckets, wipe mouths, grab clean pajama shirts. Try to sleep. Hear noise and jump back up. It’s nothing. Sleep for ten minutes. Hear noise. Grab bucket. No! Not the floor! The bucket! The bucket!

Motherhood changes you. Before I had kids, just the sound so someone throwing up would make me throw up. Now I can clean up kids in my sleep. I’ve been thrown up on and cleaned everything up before jumping in the shower. I’ve had kids throw up in my hair and down my shirt. I’ve tried to “catch” it in my hands. (Seriously?! What is wrong with Moms that we do this?)

I’m pretty sure that being the mom of sick kids is kind of like being a zombie. Maybe sick kids turn moms into zombies and this is how the Zombie Apocalypse is going to start.

1. Zombies don’t sleep. Moms of sick kids don’t sleep.

Last night I had one hour of uninterrupted sleep before the sickness invaded our home. For the next eight hours I slept for five to ten minutes at a time, jumping at every noise positive that it was a child throwing up. For the record, it normally was. If you see me walking with my arms out saying, “Coffee! Coffee!” (or wine!) I would suggest that you just silently hand it over and move out of the way.

2. Zombies eat anything they can get their hands on. Moms of sick kids eat anything they can find fast.

The sickness and throwing up didn’t end with daylight. It has continued ALL DAY. I had to move fast to grab food between all the sickness. And I guess this goes with the next point…

3. Zombies don’t care what’s happening around them when they are eating. Moms of sick kids can take a bite of lunch and then run with the bucket to the child throwing up and not miss a beat.

Moms and zombies are gross. Yep, I managed to eat lunch between times of children throwing up. Eat now and fast or don’t eat at all.

4. Zombies smell bad. Moms of sick kids smell bad.

Seriously. I’m not sure if it’s rotting flesh or if moms of sick kids just need a shower. If anyone out there knows how to take a shower when your kids are throwing up nonstop feel free to share. Moms of sick kids and zombies don’t know how bad they smell. I sprayed myself with lavender Lysol. That counts, right? Sure, they are both napping, but we all know that as soon as I get in the shower the vomiting will begin again.

And 5. Zombies avoid the sun. Moms of sick kids dread the sun coming up.

“No! No! Not the sun! How is this possible?! I haven’t had any sleep yet! It can’t be morning already! Noooooooooo!”

I guess the point is that I’m pretty sure I’m a mom of sick kids, but I might be a zombie. It’s really hard to tell. The important thing to remember is that you should probably just hand me that cup of coffee (or glass of wine) and pretend you don’t notice that I haven’t brushed my hair or the smell.

Oh, Lord, please help these boys get well. And please don’t let me catch the sickness.

Coming up next, a sick mom or a zombie? 😃