The heart of stone I sometimes get -

I don't know why I act the way I do

Like I ain't got a single thing to lose

Sometimes I'm my own worst enemy

I got a life that most would love to have

But sometimes I still wake up fightin' mad

At where this road I'm heading down might lead

The urge to run, the restlessness

The heart of stone I sometimes get

The things I've done for foolish pride

The me that's never satisfied

The face that's in the mirror when I don't like what I see ... 

Is that really ME?

This is not my normal light-hearted blog entry.  But sometimes I do have serious things to consider.

How do I do this mother thing right?  It's a bad week with the teenagers and the "baby". (He is six - but so much younger than my "first litter" that he is "the baby" still).  This is not going how I want it to.  I feel like my life is thoroughly and completely NOT my own.  Do they even love each other?  Do they love me? Why do they do this to me?  Why do I do this to them?  I want to rewind to the spot where this all began going wrong and have a "do over". 

How far do I have to go back?  I do not even know! 

I cannot find the spot. 

Maybe it was when they were toddlers?  It doesn't matter anyway.  I know that I can not do it over.

I just completed my 6th year at my job.  This little anniversary comes with a performance review.  I am a good dental hygienist - I have great rapport with patient's and their guardians - I understand insurance -I can calculate the proper antibiotic prophylaxis for a child with a heart murmur -

OH! and I am late to work more often than I am on time.  These are the things that I already know I will hear and see and sign my name to when my boss presents me with my performance review. I am that confident.

I AM A GOOD MOTHER.

This is what I want to be confident about.  It is the only performance review I care about. Tell me what specific thing I need to do - how can I make this happen?

I mean ... I know - prayer, scriptures, church attendance, Family Home Evening - I learned all those "answers" too.  The answers to SO many questions.  I know them.  I understand them.  I don't do them well - but not because I don't know better. I know that ... ok?

Even those things - no matter how lovely -  do not guarantee a safe, competent, successful adult to spawn from the beautiful, perfect in everyway child that I birthed.  I realize that these things ... these exercises ... provide a great foundation - something to come back to when it is needed in their life - but no matter how well anyone does it - there are no guarantees.  I know because I've seen families that do these "exercises" very well and they very often do not end up with children who are kind, happy and successful.

Can I have a guarantee with that please? 
`
To my children -
I promise you - my beautiful children that I only do for you what I think is best.  I promise you that I know you - who grew in my belly - layed in my arms - slept in my bed - better than anyone except your creator.  Each of you - are my life. 

Sometimes you are the only reason that I even bother to get out of bed.

Thoughts of each of you are always banking around in my brain - like a pinball machine - one thought POPPING to the next. 

Sometimes it abrasively shoots across to a fear I might be having for you at the moment ...

That boy better take care of her on the jet-ski. Is he going to be wreckless with her beautiful life? Did I stress to her enough how very important it is to me for her to keep that life jacket on? -  I hope Corey isn't hungry. - Does Bradley understand where his Dad is?  - I can plainly see that my boy is getting ready to get his heart broken and I cannot bear to watch.   - I hope that siren isn't driving toward one of my babies. - Jesse looks so sad...

... and other times it gently rolls to a memory of you that makes me smile. 

Those night time sweet words when it was just me and you in your bed waiting for sleep to come. - Story time at the library. - Our first mini-van. - Comforting you thru a thunderstorm. - Finding you butt-naked in the McDonald's play area - your voice on my Mother's Day phone call - 16 years if OBX memories.

Sometimes it lingers in a pocket of regret - a time in your life - even a specific event -  that I wish I had handled differently - better. 

I wish I had not given Corey's kitten to Lacey.  It was awful.  He was only seven years old - it was a horrible punishment for a little boy. - I wish I had not fallen apart on Lyndsi Shae's very first prom day and yelled at her until she cried.  She wasn't letting me be part of her day - so what did I do?  I made sure she felt plenty bad about it! It was mean. - Why did I put Lacey in Kindergarten when she was only 4.  She was such a little thing!  What was I rushing? - Why didn't I wait to go to dental school until Jesse was older.  Why did I think once he reached Kindergarten that I was free to do such a time consuming thing that literally sucked me out of my family's life?
------------

I don't know why I act the way I do

Like I ain't got a single thing to lose

Sometimes I'm my own worst enemy

I got a life that most would love to have

But sometimes I still wake up fightin' mad

At where this road I'm heading down might lead

The urge to run, the restlessness

The heart of stone I sometimes get

The things I've done for foolish pride

The me that's never satisfied

The face that's in the mirror when I don't like what I see ...

 


So - this blog has been in my "draft box" for weeks.  I can't figure a proper way to wrap it up.  Its not wrappable.  Its a work in progress ... my blog ... my mothering - a work in progress.