Monthly Archives: February 2013

The Best

I tried to explain to hubby why I was so upset about feeling like I don’t invest in my kids most of the time; why just surviving is such trauma to me.  He thinks it is because I worry too much about what others think of me.  But it is not that simple.

Yes, I worry what other people think.  I know my parenting style changes when there are people around, I don’t want them to think I am doing it wrong.  Yet,  for the most part, I am proud of a lot I have done.  I was a breastfeeding, babywearing mama.  I let my kids know I love them and am proud of them.

But I am haunted with the thought I am not investing in them enough.  I am afraid they don’t believe how much I love them.  I am afraid they won’t know how much my heart breaks when things go awry, when I yell too much or get too frustrated.

I want so much for them to understand how much I want to pour into them.  How I want them to see and know the Love of God first, here at home.  How I want them to have the self-confidence to head out into the world with their heads up high.  How I want them to know home is a safe place to land, always.

What do you want for your kids?  How do you show them?



My older girls have a snow day today.  I’m good with that.  We didn’t get a lot of snow but our school system has no bussing and I don’t like the thought of being one of all those parents out there carting around my kids.

Several other things have been canceled today as well, either because of snow or because kids were unexpectedly home from school.  When one person on my facebook canceled something she said she needed to invest in her children today.

This has been gnawing at me ever since.

Most days I am not investing.  And I hate it.  I am not the mother I dreamed of being.  Lately, a day has been a win if I haven’t yelled or screamed at anyone.  That is the only criteria.

It’s not that I don’t desire to go beyond that, but so many days it is just hard.  It is hard to get beyond survival.  Like this morning.  I wasn’t mad at anyone, but it was hard to be investing while cleaning pee off the carpet, being asked for a snack and an additional million things.

How do I thrive in that?

My moments are taken with potty training, homework and book reading.




When do I just be with them and love on them?  How do I balance that with my need for space?  Am I allowed to need space?

When I was working outside the home I gave myself very little time away from them as I was already gone for so much of the day.  Now, I am home, and I give myself even less time away from them.  I wanted to be home.  I should be enjoying every moment, soaking it in, investing in them.

They will be grown and gone before I know it.  I have to invest now before my window of opportunity is gone and they are out in the world.  How dare I, as a woman, a  mother and a Christian, just survive.

More and more often I am coming to the realization I am not cut out to be a mother.  I am failing my children, my husband and my God.  I am a terrible mistake.

Like Nails on a Chalkboard

I love my kids.  Like crazy.  To distraction.

But sometimes their sound is like nails on a chalkboard in my soul.  It is just so loud.  And before you tell me to teach my kids not to yell, I’m not talking about them yelling.  Just talking, running around, playing.  It just gets loud.  And can shock my system.

Some days, it is my own fault.  If I forget to take my morning meds, things are worse.

But other days I do take them. And it is rough anyway.

I am an only child.  My house, growing up, was not filled with noise.  I went to small schools, the classes weren’t that large.  There just wasn’t a lot of noise.  And I liked it that way.

Typically, when just Patrice and I are home, it is pretty quiet and mellow.  And, Praise the Lord, she still naps, which helps.

But we’ve had days off school, snow days and sickie days lately.  And the noise can push me to the edge of madness.

I remind myself that noise is my kids.  Mine.  And that helps.  It does.  But it isn’t a mute button.

I spend more time than I wish telling the girls to quiet down, not run so much.  And fighting the urge to turn on the manageable noise of the television.  I am proud to say, the girls haven’t watched any tv today.  I have dealt with it as much as possible by closing doors, dividing and conquering, and just gritting my teeth.

But I tell you what, the older two are going back to school tomorrow!!!

The Fixer

My hubby can fix anything.

Really.  I mean it.  And he’s not afraid to try.  He thinks it through, figures it out and does it.

I am in awe of him.  He is so smart.  He can fix anything.

Like today, he fixed an electrical problem for some friends of ours.  I am so proud of him my heart could burst.

Recently he fixed one of our vehicles.  The shop had quoted us a lot to fix it.  We couldn’t afford it, so we brought it home.  And my hubby tackled it.  He ran into problems, so he even fashioned his own tools.  He fixed it for pocket change, in one afternoon.

He is absolutely amazing.

But there is one thing he can’t fix.  And it makes me cry.  He can’t fix me.  I’m afraid no one can.

I’m not depressed in the same way I was while working, but something has been seriously wrong since Christmas.  My anger, rage and frustration have grown exponentially.  All to often they boil over.  It’s not pretty.  It hurts so badly.

It is affecting my family.

Earlier this week things got difficult.  Afterward I was working on staying calm.  Caitlyn said “Are you trying to be calm NOW?”  And worst of all, today, she snapped at Sue.  Hubby asked her why.  She said, “don’t you even listen to mommy?  That’s the way she is.”

That was quite a few hours ago.  I haven’t stopped crying.  I am trying so hard.  We upped a medication a few weeks ago.  I’m adding a new one this weekend.  I am spending more time reading my Bible.  But so far, to no avail.

I’m beginning to think I am unfixable.


Bribery in all it’s glory

So today I was thinking about what an exercise in bribery potty training is.

“You can watch tv if you sit on the potty.”

“You can have an apple with peanut butter if you sit on the potty.”

“I will read you this story if you sit on the potty.”

“You get candy and bubbles if you go potty.”

“You can call grandma if you use the potty.”

Bribery.  And I am not above it.  Nope.

Tuesday and Wednesday we had a couple successes.  Yesterday, no good.

This morning one massive pee pee feet away from the potty.  I told her how sad it made mommy that she didn’t make it to the potty.  We practiced going to the potty chair from various rooms in the house to make sure she knew where to go when she had to go potty.

Then she had an accident while pulling off her undies.  I told her I was proud of her for trying so hard.  Next we had a half accident, half success.

But tonight was the spectacular event.

She not only made it to the potty but she pulled down her jeans and her undies and went when no one was paying attention.


She got candy.

She got bubbles.

She got to call both grandmas.

She got so much praise.

Then this happened.

That's the dog.  That's the potty chair.

That’s the dog. That’s the potty chair.

Yeah, the dog drank some of her pee.

Just a normal Friday night at our house :/  How is yours?