Guest Post--sorta

Over at The Chocolate Chip Waffle I read a post that EXACTLY describes my sentiments on mothering a now-8-year-old daughter.

Mother's Day yesterday was won.der.ful! The best yet!--Breakfast in bed, and homemade school gifts galore. And at Relief Society, when I was asked why it was the best so far, I merely said "Because I tried really hard this year to not bring chaos upon myself." I didn't want another year of sitting in Sacrament Meeting wishing my children were not looking at me as they sung Mother I Love You and other various Primary songs.

So, I used the DUH! moments I have learned from most recently and worked them to my advantage and was calm and endearing yesterday.

But, try as I might, I could not hold it together this morning as *E* was playing in the Bath instead of the Shower (as usual) that she was supposed to be taking. And after she had screamed repeatedly at me that I needed to bring her her towel and still do her hair for Crazy Hair Day (it's spirit week at school), even though we had to leave in 3 minutes, I could no longer talk calmly and reinforce values.

And when she stuck her fingers in her ears while I was ranting, I really lost it.

So, I yelled back (as usual) and told her it was her fault that she had wasted her morning.

She did not eat breakfast, brush her teeth or get any time to relax.

So, upon reading the post at Chocolate Chip Waffles' blog, I was nodding my head every step of the way. I whole-heartedly agree. What made it even harder for me was my resolve (again) to do better, even after our Marriage and Family Relations class yesterday in church. The lesson was on disciplining. Great! Not even 24 hours later and I have "FALLEN."

But, to hear other moms talk of the same experiences, strengthens my resolve once again.

I am convinced that if you never hear your child say they hate you or you're mean, you are not a good parent. I have to believe that, or I would give up and give in.

Here is the post from her blog that gives me a renewed energy to be a good Mom: (if I could have written it as well as her, I would have written the same things)

I snapped this morning, and I don't mean my fingers.

After sludging through rotten morning routines with my oldest daughter several times last month, I promised myself to be the glue to hold us together.

It's worked pretty well the past week: I use the low, quiet mommy voice, firm words, and mostly logical, consistent consequences. If I feel myself getting angry, I walk away and cool down.

Today it didn't work worth a crap.

I snapped in a b a d way, leaving my promise in shreds around me. Shreds I couldn't see any more, much less pick up and glue together again.

And it was only 8:10 am.

What usually gets me through the one-hour-crunch-time-morning-routine is that after the three older kids hop onto the bus, I have a few hours “honeymoon” time with our baby (now two years old). It's errand running and frolicking good play time until the twins are out of Kindergarden. It's bliss.

Anyone who gripes about the “terrible two's” can swap for my seven-year-old any day.

Sadly, the day flies forward on hummingbird's wings and before we know it, queen bee comes home. In all her young and defiant glory.

Then it's time to bust out my Elmer's glue interpretation, trying to hold us together through homework, dinner prep, tantrums, and piano practice until papa comes home for dinner.

I usually manage pretty well.

Sadly, I wasn't the glue this morning.

I was more like scissors: cutting, sharp, and unforgiving.

Right now the honeymoon solitude with my youngest feels more like I'm being held captive by a wicked stylist who's giving me a boy-short hair cut and dying it blond to boot. “No!” I plead. “I don't want that.” Her cool reply? “You asked for it, honey.”Really? And it's like life: I guess I asked for these four kids somewhere before coming to earth, even if I can't remember back that far. When I was sane. And well rested. And now I'm surprised at my lot in life and some days want to give it back? Really. But I asked for this, didn't I?

I can sit here and tell myself I'm a good for nothing, promise-breaking, pancake slinging, spoon spanking mom who belongs in a van down by the river.

After this morning's shrill yells and curses, I probably should wash my own mouth out with soap, followed by the ears of my four children.

Poor kids.

It hurts to be so human.

And to be a mom on top of that is like the cherry on the sundae of life. Sheesh, and I don't even like those crappy cherries.

I know better, and still, I fall.I hold my children's lives in my hands, trembling to not crush them, and I fall.

I plow over their tenuous emotional states, and still, I fall.

Hard.

I'm driving at least one of my children to a deep and cushy psychologist's chair in a decade or two. I just know it.

Where's a fork? I think I'm going to stick it in my head now. Or better yet, do you have a whole drawer of forks, because maybe I can find a Chinese acupuncturist to help.

How do we moms carry on? How do we rally ourselves to find a better way of being, of doing, of becoming?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YYukEAmoMCQ ----go watch---soooo funny!!!