Therapy

This all came out while writing my previous post. Writing is like therapy for me. And you all get to see it. Don't you feel special? I bet. So this hasn't been proofread or censored, and I'll probably regret writing most of it. But here it is.

How come nobody tells you what growing up is really like? They tell you that marriage is "hard" and you see mom's roll their eyes and get a little frustrated with their kids, but nobody tells you that you're going to want to wring your kid's neck sometimes? Or do they? Or am I the only one that feels that way once or thrice every day or two? Did they tell me & I just didn't listen? Or didn't get it? Like did someone say, "You're going to feel like you're working with idiots all day. They aren't idiots. This is their first mortal experience so they're learning everything. The fact that you lug your 30 pound baby up into the seat portion of the shopping cart doesn't mean that he's going to know that he has to put each leg through a different hole and sit down (even tho you've taken him to the store at least 100 times). They have to keep learning that. You're 3-year-old is going to ask you to explain an abstract (or basic/concrete) concept 12 times in a row even though you both know he's not going to get it. There will be no 'he'll use his common sense to fill in the blanks on that one" because there is no common sense. (My Dad was right. Boys don't grow a brain until they're 21.)" Nobody tells you "your life will be a never ending battle of little hands following behind you and undoing everything you've done. Your husband will go to work and see what he's accomplished at the end of the day and come home and get to be "the fun one". You'll stay home and work on a project all day. And while you may or may not finish that project, the rest of your house will be torn to shreds because your kids will find anything and everything else to keep themselves occupied while you tell them to leave you alone for a few more minutes. (Which will leave you feeling terribly guilty that you aren't including them in learning how to work and organize and finish a task. But that would involve 36 explanations about 3 separate concepts - let's not go there.) And then 5 o'clock will roll around and everyone is hungry and tired and feeling the effects of a cluttered house, and you'll try to tidy up. But while you're doing that, your kids will pull the bag of bread out of the fridge and take one bite out of every piece of bread left in the bag because they can't wait six more minutes until you've at least pushed the mountain of toys from the kitchen floor into the next room. And don't even think about asking them to help put away the toys they've spent all day getting out and playing with because they'll pitch a fit and tell you they're too tired and need help. And this will leave you feeling like the wicked stepmother. Only you're really the wicked real mother who should be a lot nicer."

Well there you have it. I've spilled the secret. Being a stay at home mom is hard. It's not just hard because you're with the same people 24/7/365 or because anything and everything you want to do has to wait until after bedtime (by which point you're too exhausted to do anything anyways). It's hard because you are trying to teach your kids good things. You're trying to help them be self-disciplined and respectful and kind and polite and tidy, and they're going to hate you for it. They're going to balk at just about everything you tell. (But surely people learn this by their second child and a lot of them continue to have more. So they probably know a lot more than I do.) And then you'll realize that you wanted this. And you'll realize that some people don't get to have kids. And some people don't get to bring their babies home from the hospital. And then you feel guilty and sad and humbled and repentant and you try to do better. You start to realize that if you'd just stop feeling sorry for yourself, there is plenty to smile (and shake your head) at. There's plenty to laugh about. There's plenty to be grateful for. The messy house and the fits of fighting and the come-apart days that leave everyone in tears are the small dark lining to a much bigger silver cloud full of hugs and laughing and funny faces and made-up words and talks about Jesus. That part is pretty indescribable. And maybe that's why nobody tells you the first part - because the rewards are accompanied by feelings that only you will understand and you will have to figure all this out on your own.