This image, or ones similar, have been frequenting my Facebook page recently and although the sentiment is sweet I often find myself feeling more nauseated than twitterpated. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids- no really I do, and hugs and kisses are great, but sometimes they just aren't enough.
Motherhood very rarely falls into the picture perfect image I have in my head. When I was little it was all I wanted to be and now that I am, sometimes I wonder "what on earth was I thinking?" Perhaps I missed the line for the awesome mother genes, but I feel I often struggle more than succeed with being a mom. And the game is always changing. What was effective yesterday is useless today. What was an argument two minutes ago is now the perfect solution. Really??? For the most you just roll with the punches and each day ends well enough.
But what about the challenges and the days where kisses, hugs and sweet words aren't enough? What about the days where you just aren't sure you can wake up and do it one more day? Then what?
Lately it seems my mommy tank is simply.......empty. I know I love my kids, and I am willing to do my mommy job, but if you were to ask me.....I just don' wanna....and I honestly wonder some days if I'll even be able to. I feel defeated and drained. My energy is sapped dry. My heart is drained. My mind is scattered like ashes to the wind.
I have found myself looking at my child in need of a hug and I actually hear the thoughts "I just can't do it" in my head. I can already feel the energy in my being drain as I look at this child knowing they need from me and I hesitate to reach out, battling the knowledge that I should with my fear of the emptiness I will experience. And then I feel guilt. What mother hesitates to hug her child? So I reach out and hold this child, fighting the feeling to push them away as I feel myself being wrung dry. I pat their back, trying to offer comfort and hide my tears while in my mind desperately praying for strength for me and love for them. The hug ends and they go on their way feeling better and I smile at them through gritted teeth, trying to force lightheartedness into my eyes and smile while my nails are digging into the palms of my closed fist trying to hide my pain and release it at the same time. Once they are out of sight and contentedly doing their thing I sit and try to gather myself, wanting to scream, but only able to cry.
What kind of mother am I? An awful one. A selfish one. A failing one.
I am a human one. Even in the shadow of my faults I have to acknowledge my weakness is my humanness, and give my self that small bit of allowance. No person, no matter how strong, valiant, determined, selfless, loving- can give forever without end.
So what do I do? How do I heal me?
I do not really know.
I do know this.
In those moments with people who love me- there is healing.
In those hugs, although they take- there is healing.
In the quiet moments- there is healing.
In the praise song- there is healing.
In my prayers- there is healing.
Right now the healing does not seem to fill me up as fast as it is being taken, but I think....I think, if I give it time and seek out those things that heal me, I will be rejuvenated. And I need to rejuvenate me because I need to heal me so I can be a better mom. I want to hold my children without ire or hurt. I want to hear their stories in detail and not dread the sound of their voices. I want to hug them and be hugged and share a mutual love, joy and bonding of spirits. I want to be the mommy I know I am again.
So my friends who may be reading this- if I don't seem like myself, or I am a bit extra clingy and drain your spirit- I am sorry- my soul is seeking healing and my love tanks are seeking to be filled. If I don't seem to understand your sorrows or help you as well as I could- I am sorry- I am struggling to help me, but know I love you and I will help as best I can. If I am withdrawn, know it isn't you, but rather me protecting my wounds. And if you have read all of this please know that I know I am struggling and I know these words are harsh to read- imagine how it must be for me to actually feel them. I share them not to beg for pity, but because there is also healing in the sharing and the understanding.
(deep cleansing breath)
I already for a warm glow of hope radiating warmth. I can do this. There will be joy again.....soon.