Last week I threw myself a pity party in the wee hours of morning after a week of sleepless nights. I chalked up Addison erratic sleeplessness to being out of her element and away from her bed. My sister was there to pick up the scattered pieces each morning, she fed Brecken, played with him, and retrieved Addy from her restless slumber all in the hope that I could relish a few moments of sleep. (Thank you, Kam).
When I finally cracked from a weak moment of despair I sat on the floor of my sister's guest bedroom and cried. With Addy in my arms I cried and prayed from sleep. I cursed God. I asked him why he gave me a baby that wouldn't sleep? (It wasn't my prettiest moment). I cursed John for leaving me all alone. I cursed him for calling his trip work, when it seemed to more of a "man-cation" to me--all the while I was dealing with dirty diapers, a three-year-old who wouldn't stop riding his sister like a horse, and a baby girl who wouldn't sleep or give me the luxury of a peaceful shower alone. Seriously, it was an overly dramatic lapse of time for me. Please tell me I'm not crazy?
By the next morning I had once again composed myself (and showered--it's funny how a simple shower can change one's mood, right)? Anyway, I felt sort of silly for my dramatic almost laughable behavior from the previous night. Honestly, what do I know about hard times and loneliness? Nothing really I suppose. Military spouses, single parents, grandparents raising grandchildren, the foster system and a plethora of other unfortunate situations seem to make my problems look like a walk in the park. However, I realize no matter what the circumstances may be, parenthood is hard. tiring. hard. exhausting. hard. tiring. emotional. lonely. tiring (you get the point). I am truly amazed by all of those individuals, who unlike me, are doing it "alone." You really are the cream of the crop!
And if I've learned anything from the last week (or the last three years) it's that more than ever I am truly thankful for John. He wakes early, comes home late, carries the weight of the world on his shoulders and then walks in the front door ready to wrestle Brecken, change Addy's diapers, and read "Mr. Brown can Moo" to our little ones over and over again. I can't say this will be my last breakdown (sigh), but please tell me there is an end in sight to Brecken riding his sister?!
Thanks for throwing this out there. I know it's hard to be up front and honest about your feelings on being a mom when they aren't the most glamorous, but I know that it always helped me when I had three little ones at home and hadn't slept through the night in 7 years! I remember feeling like jail sounded like a vacation. They had cable tv and people cooked for them and they had a bed to themselves! This post made me remember those days. You are very lucky to have a sister there to help. It gets better and you will sleep. I promise!
ReplyDeleteYes of course there is an end in what they do know...but to be a mother never ends...thanks god!! I get 2 daughters , 2 sons and 9 grandchildren....so I understand what are you talking about... Julia from BsAs, Arg.
ReplyDeleteYep, been there. Especially with the first two. Baby is four years younger than number two, so three kids is actually waaaaay easier than two. Amazingly enough. Having a five year old sister is like having a second mommy. Girls LOVE to help with Baby.
ReplyDeleteOur oldest two are not quite two years apart and those first two years were tough. BUT, it's so awesome once they become friends and can play together. Yes, the fighting is enough to make you want to scream your face off, but then there are one hour time slots where their in their own world and you can take a shower in peace. :o)