Adjusting to five children has seemed like a breeze in a lot of ways. In fact, up until a few weeks ago I hadn't even cried, not once. What!? I never cried after delivery, not even when I lay helpless, and in excruciating pain as blood poured out of my body cup by cup by cup ..... a terrifying experience, but apparently not one worthy of tears. I didn't cry when I was in pain from a rough c-section and all the terrible things that happen to your body when you pass from the state of being pregnant to not, or when I felt exhausted from the sleepless nights that inevitably came with having a newborn. I'm telling you, this was weird for me.
So what finally got to me? Everything. I woke up one morning stressed that I had a doctor appointment for myself and no one to help with my FIVE kids. I needed help, and there was none to be had. Not that I would have asked anyone anyway.. I realized I would have to check my boys out of school and jump through hoops to get myself to the freaking doctor. As soon as I had a plan in my head of how I would make this all work, I got out of bed only to realize that Madsen was sick. I would be up to my eyebrows in vomit and diarrhea all day long. I wasn't going to make it to my appointment, which was surprisingly frustrating. I mean it's not like it was a fun appointment. There is nothing fun about stripping down so your doctor can make sure your uterus has shrunk back down to size! But still, it was MY appointment. Something I needed to do for myself. (SIDE NOTE) My husband actually asked how they check such a thing...I'm telling you the look on his face when I told him was priceless. Priceless. Anyway, as soon as I realized I would be home bound for the day, I looked at Finnley's preschool calendar and realized he was assigned to bring the snack. What the H-E-double hockey sticks!? Of all days to have forgotten something like that. At this point preschool is starting in ten minutes and I've got to load up an infant and a sick little boy and head to the store cause there isn't a pretzel stick or cookie in the house. So annoying.
It was a bad day. By the time my poor husband came home from work I'd had enough. He left for a family party with the three older boys, I put Madsen to bed, and sat and stewed over my terrible day. Which then turned into to a long needed cry over everything and anything that I'd felt sad, mad, or frustrated about in a very long time. The fact that I never have the help I need. I can't ever get myself to a doctor or dentist appointment without a lot of jumping through hoops, and sometimes not at all. I never get sick days. Sometimes I get a little help, but usually not. My best friend had her birthday in October and a month later I still had not been able to go to lunch with her. No mother really wants to take 3 kids to lunch. For all the fathers out there who think it's fun to take the kids and get out of the house,,,it's not, okay. It's just what mothers do as an attempt to get rid of cabin fever and try and be social, and feel productive and not go completely bat crap crazy. I go most days with no adult conversation. Now, I'm not a super social person but a conversation with another adult is refreshing now and then! 97% of my time is spent with little needy people that I love dearly but it brings me to the fact that... I AM NEVER ALONE! By this time I probably started the ugly cry. Poor Jane lay in my arms as all my emotion rolled off of my face and onto the top of her head. My house is never clean. Like ever. It really bothers me. The dishes, the laundry come in such massive amounts it makes me want to swear. And do you know what? Sometimes I do. I cried over every little thing. It went on and on. It felt good. I think the human body needs a good cry every now and then. It's cleansing and I recommend it.
Christian and the boys came home and interrupted my good cry. I tried to hide the fact I was crying but it didn't work. He is a good husband and wanted to make me feel better so he offered to do the dishes. Little did he know what I had in store. The next morning was Saturday and I slept in, when he came to check on me and make sure I wasn't totally off my rocker I announced that I would not be doing any motherly duties all day. I would not be managing chores, or feeding kids, or changing diapers. Zilch. I let him know I was taking the day off with Jane in tow and I would be back at 8pm in time for him to watch football, cause I'm a good wife like that.
So what did I do with my day off? I went on a walk. I listened to PG-13 music on my iPod. I went grocery shopping at Costco, and Walmart. I went to lunch at Chic Fil A. I did multiple loads of laundry, worked on organizing a storage room, and tended to baby Jane.
I did the same things I do almost every other day.
As it turns out, I really do love being a wife, and a mother. A homemaker. I'm a lousy one sometimes, but I am trying. My house is a mess most the time. I relish in the moments when it's not, even though those times are few. My children are mostly happy on most days. They love to play and make messes. So what. I had a good cry about it, and life went on as normal. Whatever normal is anyway.
I am working on that....I'm starting to tell myself that I am capable and deserving! Not to mention the fact that it's to damn late to worry about my qualifications and all that mumbo jumbo now anyway. I mean what's done is done. And I'm pretty happy with it, albeit a tad, a large tad overwhelmed at times.
I've got this.
It's not perfect and that's okay.
Chances are your life isn't perfect either. And that's okay too.