Since I dedicate so much of this blog to expressing how much I love being a mom to my two precious kids, I think you will humor me with what I am going to say next…sometimes motherhood stinks. Especially on weeks like this one when I’m sick and just want to lay in bed all day and can’t because there are little people around that need my help (or in Roark’s case, need constant supervision to be kept from dangers that lurk within his arms’ reach). That to me is when motherhood is it’s hardest…when I’m not on my A game. I mean, if we are being honest, it’s not a walk in the park even when I’m feeling my best, but when I’m sick, it feels nearly impossible.
Before I had kids, I hardly ever got sick. And now that I’ve got them, it seems I’m never well. This is definitely not a “chicken or egg” situation. I know exactly what’s making me sick…these kids with their little germ infested hands and showing no remorse after eating food that’s been found on the floor (despite my gagging noises afterward as I try and fish it out).
I just can’t help but think this motherhood gig would be a lot easier if I weren’t sick all the time. I mean, wouldn’t I be better at cleaning up my child’s puke off the floor if I didn’t have to stop in the middle and empty my stomach contents as well? And wouldn’t I do a better job of feeding and clothing them if I wasn’t shivering from fever chills so bad I couldn’t even make a coherent sentence? I guess these fall under the category of “Thing’s I will ask God when I get to Heaven.” At the rate I’m going, that doesn’t seem too far away.
This month has been a hard one for me with stomach viruses and fever bugs, and my family has been very patient. As my sweet husband will attest too, when I don’t feel good I like to make all those around me miserable as well. What can I say…it’s how I cope. When I’m sick, I find myself feeling resentful that I’m so needed around here and wishing for a day when my kids are self sufficient and don’t need me for every little task. This kind of pity party is good for no one, and only causes me to feel worse because I’ve been, shall we say, less than loving to my sweet family who has done what they can to help. So maybe this post will serve as my official apology to them for the way I’ve been acting.
I’m sorry for being short and snapping at you for no reason. I’m sorry for wishing things were different in our stage of life when I spend so much effort trying to cherish these days. And I’m sorry for overlooking what you’ve done to help only to point out what you haven’t.
I think for Lent this year, I’m going to give up being a jerk.
