It’s 8pm. Sunday night. Mountain Dew and iPad in hand. (Yeah, yeah, it’s not Coke but I needed something harder!)
And I’m drained. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. And it’s all because I was solely (okay maybe that’s an exaggeration) responsible to keep watch over the kids for the afternoon. (Yes, I am their mother, but no one really understands how much my husband actually does in comparison to what I do. So yes, I’m a sad case-judge me, I don’t care. I’ve come to terms with the fact that God did not design me to be a stay-at-home parent…I further our family best by working outside. So while I’ve struggled with this for years, I’ve mainly accepted it & moved on.) Anyway, back to me being the main caregiver for the day…You see Sunday’s are usually “Race Day” in the Busby home (this can change to Saturday’s too…it strictly follows the NASCAR schedule.) And since my hubby sacrifices so much by staying home with the kids, I try to give him peace while the race is on. So that’s what happened today.
But before I get into the meat of this post, let me preface this with the fact that I love my children DEARLY. I mean they are my world…well they are 2nd. No. Still not right. They are 3rd in my world. Jesus being my forever #1 and my hubby #2…because well. Well, I chose him. And he was there before they came along. I wouldn’t have Them, without Him. And when they leave us, well quite frankly, we’ll be stuck together…forever! But they are so very loved by us and I am blessed God chose me to be their momma…but let’s be real. Some days this mothering thing is HARD! And none of them are even teens yet (in the words of a country artist and a good friend who uses this often…”Jesus take the Wheel”)
Let’s just start with how much and how often they eat. As soon as I get breakfast cleaned up, they are at my feet asking for a snack and when they devour that, they are telling me how they’d like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with no crust, 5 chips, and a glass of juice for lunch. And let’s not even mention the constant requests for a piece of gum…
Then there’s poop. Sorry for those of you grossed out by that, but it’s the current stage we are in which opens the door for this subject matter to have its own category. Either someone needs to poop and is telling me (just because). Someone has pooped in their diaper and it’s stinking up the entire room we were all just previously enjoying, thus vacating the area as if a bomb threat came in (yeah, I have stinky kids). Or the one that is going through potty training, needs to poop but is holding it and whining about needing to go poop because they refuse to go in the potty until A) a diaper is put back on for nap/bed time, or B) it starts to creep out and is inevitably found on the floor for someone to clean up…
And then there’s whining.
And because as a parent you are caught between potty breaks and handling the children’s food, you use about 1 bottle of soap per week and your hands feel as dry as sandpaper. And yes, lotion helps but every time I finish lathering up, there’s a reason to rinse my hands, again. Every. Single. Time.
Or perhaps, they come into your room, after having already gotten themselves ready, to announce they do not want to go to church today. They don’t like church. Well, dear one..in this house, we go to church on Sundays. My husband and I refer to this as a “drug ” problem that has long term benefits. We were both “drug” to church each week as children and we now serve Jesus through our church. (But really, the word of God does say “Train up a child…he will not depart from it.”)
And the whining again.
And the time change is no one’s friend because besides loosing sleep, now when it’s announced to get Jammie’s on, I was questioned. My eldest even got up, went to the window, pulled back the drapes (oh who am I kidding, we don’t have drapes, but it sounded fancy), and said it’s still daylight. Yes. Yes, I know but that does not matter. In this home (I’m liking this phrase today) we go to bed when the clock strikes 8pm not when the sun says so…Sorry.
And the baby is teething and fussy and while he has 6 teeth the child flat out refuses to eat anything more than a liquid food. Forget the “slightly” (and I mean slightly) chunky baby food jars. No way. Not this kid. He finds those chunks, and by ever-so-cleverly scraping his tongue against his top lip, every chunk on that spoonful is right back outside his mouth. And while we’ve tried “self-feeding” with dissolvable bites, he only licks those enough to get some flavor, none are actually consumed.
Lets not forget the whining.
Then its bed time. Which doesn’t always mean anything. Just because they were put to bed at 8pm, doesn’t mean they actually lie down, oh no, they still need time to play by themselves (I mean I try to make it acceptable to play by themselves during the day, but they won’t leave our side…). And then they get louder and make enough noise to wake the baby a few times. Then a few more moans and whines, from the older ones this time, wanting a drink or whatever they can think of to prolong the actual activity of going to bed. And then suddenly you realize the house is silent.
Success. The day is done! Even if this may be accurate…
But I wouldn’t trade this life for any other… like the old saying goes, it’s just a hard day, not a hard life.
However, I do foresee a McDonald’s Coke to start Monday though…