She takes her kids on outings all the time. She makes sure they are dressed in clean clothes every day, get 3 meals to eat, feel safe and have fun things to do. She supports them in sports, takes them hiking, to the museum, parks. She adores her children! She whips up new creations in the kitchen just to celebrate Tuesday, cleans the whole house with the kids, makes them cinnamon apples as a fun snack and reads with them. Mom A seems to have her stuff together. She even makes homemade babyfood and bakes bread every week! She often gets compliments about her children's behavior.
Meet mom B...
She rarely has a brush ran through her hair, her kids are loud and have holes in their jeans. She has spit up on her shoulder and hasn't taken a shower in a week. She loses her patience and yells at her children many times each week. She's burnt out and has begun threatening to run away. Mom B looks like she's falling apart and hates her life. She just knows people look at her thinking, "you shouldn't have had those kids!"
This isn't another mommy wars post, it's not two different moms being pitted against each other. These descriptions are the same woman. They are ME. Both of those paragraphs can fit me at the exact same time. My poor kids have seen me turn from Mrs. Patient Hockey Mom to the Devilish child-hater within 5 minutes.
I like posting pictures to facebook almost right after I take them. I've learned if I don't take care of something right away, it may take months to do! So I snapped this picture and uploaded it to facebook:
But I kid you not, 2 minutes afterwards, I was yelling like I had just turned into a banshee... We were getting ready to go somewhere and the older kids opened the door for the younger kids to start spilling out into the yard and in danger while I was nursing the baby saying, "don't open the door yet. Shut the freaking door! Get your sisters inside and shut the door! Are they inside? SHUT THE DOOOOORRRR!!!" grrrr raaarrrr
This time, I had a neighbor come over. I didn't feel embarrassed, and I already felt guilty without her attention... but I actually felt bad for HER. lol I feel bad for her and my children for having to listen to my screaming... I have an inner voice, locked behind bars, pleading, "who is this person?! Let me out, let me hug them and tell them they're amazing and their mom is being a witch!" (That neighbor is amazing and just came over to help!)
I finally prayed and begged for help. Alas, here I am... why did it take me weeks to get on my knees and ask for help AGAIN? Why don't I turn to Heavenly Father first? I'm definitely not perfect, but this week has been a huge turnaround compared to the few weeks before. God did not take away my current issues... I had my thyroid out and it's obvious the side affect of "anxiety" of now being hyperthyroid has hit hard last month. I thought anxiety meant you just couldn't physically handle getting out of the house and facing some situations. Well, huh. Apparently I can't handle certain situations and stay myself. A certain level of noise combined with a mess and a disobedient child just turn me into a psycho. Now that I understand this is the temporary new me, I break things into pieces. If I feel like I'm going to lose it, I stop what I'm doing and get away. I don't explode anymore. There have been three instances now where I put 1-3 loads of laundry in the van with the baby and drove away (about 3 blocks to an open empty parking lot)... just so I can get laundry done in peace. This feels crazy to me, it feels like I'm trapped in someone else's body! Apparently I need to do this. If I drive away without laundry, then I'll just be coming home to more laundry... so that explains that!
Do you want to know a fun side effect of my horrible side effect? My need to just get out of a situation has lead to this alone:
When I'm out in nature, I am at peace... my problems aren't gone, but God has given me resources to manage my problems. He loves me, I am his child. I don't thank him enough or ask for his help enough. Hopefully I'll get better and better. Until then, I've given myself permission to run away... alone for a couple hours or as a family. And that's okay.

