It seems to me like the past few months have looked a lot like this...
She's a little bit of pill, this one
with the crying and the whining and the crying and the waking up at night and crying.
And so I said enough is enough.
I talked to the doctor...
long story short- I filled a prescription for Prevacid.
8 days later I have a different child.
She is pleasant & content,
I like her and she likes me.
Now peace & harmony now resides in our home.
(for the most part anyway)
I'm pretty familiar with hard and fussy babies. Kaleb, poor kid, was the most unhappy child (and that's putting it gently). That little boy had me in tears so many nights that I lost track. I remember going to the doctors and breaking down in tears begging him to tell me that there was something wrong with Kaleb so that whatever it was, it could be fixed.
It's really hard to be a good mom when you feel continually dragged down emotionally by your children. Does it make me any less of a mom to admit that I have my fair share of moments where I feel like my head is going to explode? Nope, I say it makes me completely normal. We all have our moments where we feel like we're a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off. However, we might not all portray our melt downs in stick figure drawings... see here.
I've been thinking lately about the role of a mother
and how trying it can be at times.
I recall using my mother as a visual aid for a small class I was teaching. She stood in the front of the room and in each hand she held a basket. Now my mother by nature loves to perform well in front of others. So I set a task in front of her knowing that she would be perfect for the job. I was to load her baskets one by one with rocks of all shapes and sizes... all she needed to do was keep her baskets held high. Having a competitive heart she fought and she held those baskets out to the side as long as she could until finally, she broke. I had filled her baskets so full that there was no possible way she could continue- her breaking point was inevitable.
As mothers our baskets our full; not only are they full, but they're spilling out the sides and onto the floor. Perhaps one of the heaviest weighing items filling our baskets is our children and the constant worry & concern we have for them...
If they've done their home work, cleaned their room, read their 20 minutes each night.
If they've showered for the day and are wearing clean socks and underwear.
If they're doing well in school, if they have friends, if they're respectful to those around them.
If they're happy, if they're healthy, if they're making right choices when nobody is watching.
But most importantly for me, I worry about whether or not my children know that they are loved. I've been asking myself that question lately every night before they go to bed. Sometimes the answer is an overwhelming yes. Other times it feels like a discouraging no. (To be honest it's amazing that any love can be felt around here at bedtime.)
That's a lot to balance on the small plate we call motherhood.
In a talk Elder Holland gave in April 1997, he recalls a letter he received by a mother feeling the strains of motherhood, ...one thing, she said, keeps her going: “Through the thick and the thin of this, and through the occasional tears of it all, I know deep down inside I am doing God’s work. I know that in my motherhood I am in an eternal partnership with Him. I am deeply moved that God finds His ultimate purpose and meaning in being a parent, even if some of His children make Him weep.
“It is this realization,” she says, “that I try to recall on those inevitably difficult days when all of this can be a bit overwhelming. Maybe it is precisely our inability and anxiousness that urge us to reach out to Him and enhance His ability to reach back to us. Maybe He secretly hopes wewill be anxious,” she said, “and will plead for His help. Then, I believe, He can teach these children directly, through us, but with no resistance offered. I like that idea,” she concludes. “It gives me hope. If I can be right before my Father in Heaven, perhaps His guidance to our children can be unimpeded. Maybe then it can be His work and His glory in a very literal sense.”
Elder Holland continues,
"Do the best you can through these years, but whatever else you do, cherish that role that is so uniquely yours and for which heaven itself sends angels to watch over you and your little ones.
Rely on Him. Rely on Him heavily. Rely on Him forever. And “press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope.” You are doing God’s work. You are doing it wonderfully well. He is blessing you and He will bless you, even—no, especially—when your days and your nights may be the most challenging."
Now take a deep breath and soak it ALL in.
In short, regardless of faith or religion, we as mothers have one common goal:
To help our children reach their full potential in all aspects of life; physically, mentally, socially & spiritually. We would be foolish to think we could possibly accomplish this great task all on our own. Sometimes we just need a little help of the heavenly sort...
And a full body massage accompanied with a little dark chocolate and cold Diet Coke could possibly help as well, just saying.
(The moody evening sunset right outside my back window.)
And to think, this post was originally going to be about me taking Macie to the doctor for acid reflux and finding out she has strep throat as well. I guess we could consider this a case of ADD gone wild.
. . . . .
