a confession...

I think other people have the wrong impression of me. If I paint a picture of me, this is what I think others think:

I am always smiling.
I am always happy.
I always look put together.
My kids are happy kids.
I make it look so easy.
I'm a good Mom.

These are great compliments but I have to come clean and admit they are NOT true. Please don't ever think these things now that you know the truth. I'm not saying their false either. Let's just take the word "always" out, ok?

There is a saying or poem, what ever, that talks about the burdens in our lives and looking at them in a positive way. Like that huge pile of laundry that never goes away in my laundry room. I should be thankful that my family has clothes and to take it even further, a washer machine that is amazing. You know, I don't look at it that way. I see the long hours of washing, drying, folding, putting away then doing it all over again in 3 days. In all honesty, since that is what I'm being here, I think 1 outfit per person is reasonable. Maybe 2. A Sunday best and a school outfit.

A messy house with toys thrown about and laundry baskets of clothes everywhere, dishes piled on the counters and food splattered across the stove shows we have a house and live it. I would much rather have no toys and let the kids dig outside or ride bikes. Don't get me wrong I give thanks everyday for my house. I love my home. I just don't love everything inside that causes me stress. Like stepping on legos, kicking a toy and breaking a toe (that is a true event), or stepping in mushed bananas on the kitchen floor. These things do not make me happy nor smile.

I'm afraid to go into the MoM stuff. I might just stop here actually. But my whole purpose of writing this was to show that being a Mom is not easy for me and I'm not receiving Mom of the Year anytime. A few nights ago just as I laid my head on my pillow and went into that first phrase of much needed sleep I heard a child scream "Mom, she's throwing up!!" It's this sleep phrase that makes me wonder if it is a dream or reality which I am hearing. No, it was definitely reality. I jump up and run to the girl's bedroom to see vomit all over Olivia's bed and her crying. No, let me be more honest...she was screaming. Drooling with tears falling down her checks. Zach helped clean her bed as I stripped her from her clothes and prepared a shower. She was still screaming. I kept yelling at her to STOP crying!! I was yelling because I didn't want  Matthew to get woken up. I didn't want to deal with both of them. I was so tired. Olivia's ignoring my yells and I'm still hollering at her and Matthew is crying now when Zach says to me to calm down because obviously Olivia is traumatized and doesn't know what to do. "But she doesn't need to scream!"

Well, to make a story short after her shower I dressed her and made a bed for her on the sofa next to our bed. I crawled back in bed and looked at her laying there sad, pale, and cold as a little tear fell down her check. At this moment I wanted to throw up. Not out of sickness but out of sadness and regret for my behaviour in her moment of need. Was it such a big deal to wake Matthew? I felt horrible. Every day I pray and give thanks for these little kids but do I ever show appreciation to them? I really needed my actions to match my words. In my heart of course I love and appreciate and care but I don't always show it. I'm worried about the laundry down stairs or the dishes on the counter to spend a few moments reading to them or helping them. I'm more worried with finishing my text conversation with someone than listen to the same story again about the turtle one found at the creek.

I have been thinking for days now how I could show appreciation and be more thankful for the little burdens in my life. I am not referring to the kids being burdens but the mess, sleepless nights, toothpaste squirted on the bathroom sink, etc.. I will not miss most of the hardships of raising children but I am working handling them in a better way. I want my actions live up to my words. Everyday I tell each one of them, several times a day, I love them. I must admit that I don't always show it. I feel I don't always have the patience for compassion or empathy. "You threw up, you clean it." No! I'm only kidding. I'm not that bad.

I talk with a friend frequently about children and the struggles I have. I have discussed several times how I want to be honest and write down my true feelings in this blog. This is one of the reasons I started it. I don't want to look like a complainer since that would not match those compliments up there. I can't be happy and smiling and complaining. That makes so sense. I am a real person with struggles and weaknesses. I screw up frequently and I tend to be a bit selfish. I am known to say unkind words and a few times I am sure I turned into a witch with a big ugly wart.

I'm glad I got to snuggle with Olivia on the couch when she stayed home from school though I couldn't go workout. I will try not complain next time Matthew decides to cry for hours in middle of the time. I may not be happy. I am working on looking past the 10 forts build throughout my house by Michael who thinks he needs a habitat in every room.  And I will wash stinky, gagging, stomach fluid sheets happily. With a smile. All dressed up in my pearls.