You’re going to scoff and rush to reassure me, I’m sure. But don’t panic, I know He doesn’t. I do. But some days, like today, when it feels like the world is conspiring against me, that thought enters my mind. I feel the overwhelming need to run…somewhere. To just have one hour of peace in the storm. Yes, that’s dramatic and no, nothing spectacular happened. It’s the little things multiplied a thousand times. First something simple like I’m out of Dr. Pepper first thing in the morning. Or I snooze my alarm a few times too many. Then my mind starts rolling through my ever-increasing list of things to do. It’s then I realize I forgot to pay a bill or didn’t call to refill my prescription. No biggie, but it changes my routine and throws me off. The dogs get in the trash (again), my vinyl cutter does something weird, or I drop a fence panel on my head. Little things, over and over, adding up over my day. I’m sure I’ve said, “Why does this have to be so hard?? Why does every little thing I try to do have to be SO HARD??” at least a few times a week for years. You can read back through my posts and see what I’m talking about. It seems like everything is done the hard way around here.
Today is one of those days when I’m overwhelmed by my messy house, my chatty child, my nosy dogs, and lack of enough hours in the day. After threatening, for the second week in a row, to pick up everything on the floor and throw it away, I laid down to rest, hoping that would help my attitude. I was woken out of a dead sleep by a panicky Tuck telling me he “accidentally” hit one of my “flowers” and there was “black stuff” everywhere. In other words, one of the grape vines I’m babying took a dive after a wild child ran over it and there’s dirt everywhere. Of course his panic probably had more to do with it being on his toys, which were (gasp) still in the damn floor, than my poor plant. I was furious, but I managed to calmly reply and clean it up. Keep in mind the kid has not been home but a few hours. School was out today so he had a sleepover at his Mama Judy’s. In the first hour he was home, he was already screaming at me to make lunch while I was literally cutting the vinyl to make a shirt for him at his insistence. I wasn’t moving fast enough for his timetable on either thing and he was again hating me, our house, life here, and wishing for other parents. He is quite the drama queen. That’s in the first 60 minutes. Sometimes I get my feelings hurt over the awful things he spews out when he’s mad, but today I ignored him and sent him to his room. There he cried piteously, just loud enough to annoy me. I actually thought I might physically explode.
So again, I was furious by the time he woke me up. Tired of this day where everything fought me, including my kid. Tired of crap laying everywhere. Tired of trash that needs to go out, clothes that need to be washed, supper that needs to be made. I had every intention of packing up everything on the floor and putting it in trash bags. I’m still fighting the urge. Because I don’t think I can stand the confrontation right now without saying something awful to this little person that truly doesn’t retain anger past that moment he was in. He doesn’t understand why we are still mad 5 minutes later. He’s moved on and over it. So now on top of being furious, I feel guilty about how I’m acting versus how I’m sure I should act as a “good” mother. I literally stood stirring chili, with him running through the house screaming at the top of his lungs playing, thinking, “I think God must hate me.” Because I know He knows I’m at the end of my rope. He knows I’m struggling and yet, here I sit, in my chaotic house, with my screaming kid, trying to not throw away everything he owns.
I’m sharing this with you so you know that everyone struggles. Everyone. Just because they’re smiling in your face or posting how awesome their kid/job/dog/home is, doesn’t mean they aren’t struggling. Some people are just better at hiding it than I am. I am already very insecure about being a good mom. I’m not good about homework, going to church and doing all the little things like 100th day of school, valentines and everything else those great moms do automatically. Most days I’m just struggling to maintain an even tone and not scream back when this little miracle screams awful things at me.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my life right now and my family. Things are so much better than they were when I was working full time, but I still struggle daily. I still feel like God is punishing or testing me some days. No offense, but I feel like I’ve been tested enough and He can move the hell on to someone else now. He is not exempt for my attitude, in case you’re wondering. Why hide what I really think from the One who already knows. I’ve had people try to encourage me by saying things like I would be bored and lost without all the pressure and obstacles, “What would you do if everything was easy”, they say. I don’t know – relax my shoulders? Sleep peacefully?
Anyway, tomorrow is a new day to start over. I used to make resolutions yearly and of course couldn’t maintain those expectations all year. Then I started setting goals more often during the year – every six months, then every month, then every week. I’m down to daily at this point – that’s how much I feel like I’m failing every day. But I go to bed at night knowing tomorrow will be a clean slate and I can try again. It’s really my only option and the only relief I get. Some days I manage to go all day without a Coke or I exercise or I maintain my calm all day. Some days I start yelling within 40 minutes, drink every Coke I see and every cookie, and nap for hours. But I keep getting up and starting over. Maybe some day I can push it back out to weekly re-sets. Miracles happen daily, people. Giving up just isn’t an option. Even if every day is awful, I’m too stubborn to give up. When you feel like you’re drowning, just know, you aren’t the only one. Take it one minute at a time. One hour, one day. You can do this. You can. And so can I.