I’m worn down. Underneath my nose is chapped and raw, as I take in a series of short breaths. My eyes are watery, my bones are achy and worst of all, I can’t taste my coffee. My symptoms come as no surprise, just proof of the affection I have received from the people I live with. These same people have been screaming and whining throughout the house, like a sword slicing through my ear drums. They have been arguing and fighting, tumbling down to the floor, vibrating the walls. I am forced to live with people that are slobs, leaving piles of their things everywhere, dishes in the sink and a trail of dirty laundry. Sharing a bathroom with them has become intolerable, toothpaste on the vanity, paper on the floor, and you can almost always count on a surprise waiting in the toilet. I live with an inconsiderate bunch, just when I sit, they ask for a favor. Just when I take my first bite, they beg for seconds. I cohabitate with the most unorganized group of people you could imagine. The moment they put anything down, its lost! Better yet, they rely on my ability to see before they are able to use anything. These people have no consideration for boundaries and what belongs exclusively to me. They are constantly asking for help, always needing, always wanting.
Just when I decide, “I’ve had enough, I’m going to find a new place to live,” they widen their adorable little eyes, reach their tiny little arms around my neck and call me “mommy.”
Although they aren’t the ideal housemates, I do love them anyway!
It has just been a rough day!
I sit here hanging on to the last few hours of the morning, sipping coffee in my comfy sweats, my legs curled under me and the television gently humming out the sing song rhythm of a children’s show. I have put most of my children on the bus with no chaos, no arguments over clothing or meals, a victory as far as I’m concerned. Perhaps it is attributed to the rain pouncing down, leaving the windows a dark shade of grey. When I reluctantly stepped foot out of bed this morning, each child was safely nestled in their blankets, eyes tightly closed, absorbed in the sleep where dreams come through.
The last little girl of mine is now playing contently with the sound of plastic clattering as she sorts through her toys. I feel content, a gift from the rain I suppose. I am in total serenity when I watch the water beading up on the windows, what looks like several hundred at a time. The drops slide down the glass making the outside world look like a distorted image from a painting I might have seen before. The branches on the trees are mostly bare with a few soggy leaves hanging on before they surrender to winter and collect in piles on the ground. Its on days like this I wonder what it must be like living in a place where the clouds cover the sun and the forecast almost always calls for rain. Perhaps it will lose its effect, but for today, for right now, I am appreciative for the rain.
Photo Credit: http://www.wallpapersphotography.com/Rainy%20Days/index.htm
I blinked. . .
When I opened my eyes I was responsible for four precious human beings. As they sit all in a row, they look like an image of a life cycle you would find in a magazine, infant, baby, toddler and preschooler. One charming little boy followed by the three beautiful, graceful little girls adorned in pink with large bows atop of their silky hair. During this time I was on my feet all hours of the night and desperately trying to keep up throughout the day. I grew weary, filled with exhaustion, until my eyes felt so heavy, I blinked . . .
When I opened my eyes the eldest two children were standing tall, with their sacks slung on their backs, waving their small hands bye bye as they lift their foot on the step of the long, yellow painted bus. The two smaller girls were now running through my legs wildly, refusing naps, unable to be tamed. Feeling overwhelmed, I threw my hands up in the air, exhaled all of my frustrations and I blinked. . .
When I opened my eyes I was rushing through the morning routine, preparing lunches and snacks, tying shoelaces and packing library books. Chauffeuring the children from football and dance, muscling through to get the homework done. Some days its hard, feeling like a personal assistant to four people. I can get lost in the minutes of life as the weeks and months roll by. I find myself pausing a moment when I see my son reading to his younger sister or my daughters eyes sparkle with excitement and belief as the holidays approach. My eyes begin to sting a little and fill with tears of love, and as much I resist and refrain from wanting to, I hold out, taking in the wonderment of how special this life is, until I can’t fight the urge any longer, and I close my eyes.
I blink . . .
When I went grab the milk out of the refrigerator this morning, lying there next to last nights left overs, which no one will probably want to eat, was a Cinderella figurine. And just as I lay down at night, there was a plastic toy cell phone hiding under my pillow. These little surprises are the least of what goes on in this house. The truth is they are taking over. They, being our four children and taking over, meaning the house, the car, the food and ultimately our lives. That’s not a bad thing, I can say that proudly. I hum “Let It Go” as I take a shower. Toys are in every corner of every room. They are stored in bins under the entertainment unit in the living room and crafts fill my linen closet. A large display of seasonal art hangs proudly in my kitchen. The beautiful Waterford Crystal statues and Tiffany Lamps are packed away, leaving my end tables bare in the living room. I have fully surrendered.
Having four children doesn’t seem chaotic when you are standing next to a women with six, as I did not long ago. You can’t really complain much. However, I believe that is life’s funny tricks. “Oh, you think your overwhelmed? You think you have it hard?” There is always someone that will outdo you and in this case, put your life in perspective. We all are overwhelmed at some point. Our houses are all a mess. We all know the words to the Frozen soundtrack and we all have let our children zone out to YouTube to keep the peace. And if you meet someone that claims they don’t live this life, don’t worry, they’re lying! And if they’re not, get new friends!!
I’m a Real Mom living on Long Island and I want to talk about what is REALLY going on. So take a deep breath and just know, you are not alone. You are a real mom too!