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?
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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?
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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.
