Sometimes Parenting Sucks....Sometimes...

Being a parent sucks sometimes. Let's just throw it out there and be real for a minute. We all see the Facebook posts of our friends and family who show how joyful and sweet being a parent is. Don't get me wrong, I love being a mother, it is in fact one of my greatest joys, but I do not have rose colored blinders on that keep me from seeing the unpleasantness that come with being a mother. There are so many of us who feel like we are failing at this job called parenting, while we are reading unrealistic posts of rose colored lives where nothing is irritating and nothing goes wrong. Hello! Am I the only one living in the real world?

Parenting sometimes sucks.

Kids fight, we fight to keep the house cleaned, and hello, when was the last time you go to the bathroom uninterrupted? When was the last time you got to take a shower with a child running in and complaining about their brother throwing pancake into their hair? Seriously? I am the only one this happens to?

Have I mentioned that I love being a mother? There are joys that come with raising children, but they are not every day and they are not 100% of the time. Today for instance, S, M and myself all watched, Night at the Museum, together. No one fought, we all laughed and it was a rare time of uninterrupted family time. No fights ensued, not name calling and no hogging of the snacks. It was rare...did I mention this? Normally when we all try to watch a movie (and keep in mind K and A were elsewhere), there is fighting over the snacks, who sits in what spot, who is closer to mom, who gets to hold the remote (why are we holding the remote? There are no commercials to fast forward in a movie from Redbox) and the list continues.

There are the moments where our beautiful little angels are actually bad. They throw tantrums in the store (so not fun), they deliberately make a mess to make a point (what I am not sure). Or the times when you have to discipline them....not my favorite moment in parenting.

I love being a parent and if for some reason all of this went away I would miss it. Sure my house would stay clean, and the milk would get put away and the clothes would stay folded in the drawers and the million other things that kids are not going to do until they have their own house and realize mom was right, but I would miss out on the best thing that ever happened to me...motherhood.

I don't see the world through rose colored, everything is perfect glasses, but I do see the joy in the mess, the fights, the constant state of frustration. I see the love they have for each other (yeah, really they do). They can pick on each other all they want, but look out if anyone outside their sibling bond messes with any one of them. The protect and defend each other. They actually, on occasion, say nice things to one another. The mommy time snuggles, the kisses, the hugs, are all the best parts of being their mom. Yes I may get frustrated. I may yell. I may completely pull out all of my hair, but I wouldn't change a thing where K, A, S & M are concerned. They are my not-so-perfect little angels. I am proud to be called their mom.

Until the Next Scribble.....

Messy house....A Blessing?!

Motherhood the land of a messy house, kid wars, food wars, the occasional embarrassing scene at the grocery store where your toddler throws a fit because you wont buy her (or him) the cookies she wants. That place where you look at the little angels who came from your body and see monsters who have invaded your home. Motherhood. That title you wished for and planned for since childhood when you played with your dolls and pretended your bedroom was your house and the neighborhood boy down the street was your husband ( because you were not going to be a single mother, no little girl plays single Mom house).

There are numerous times when I have walked into my house and the only thing I can see is the mess. The toys on the floor, or the odd scraps of little papers and things that seem to make their way onto the floor. The hair ties, shoes not put where they belong and backpacks thrown about wherever they land. The mess. How many of you can relate? I mean really, what if the neighbor down the street comes by to say hello? It never happens, but because your house is a mess you know they will.

As I walk through the door I close my eyes and pray silently that when I open them it will all miraculously be clean. Of course its not. So the other day I was struck by a thought. A simple thought that made me stop and relook at the house as I walked in.

What did I see? Still a mess, but it wasn't that I saw a mess it was what the mess reminded me of that day. (Funny isn't it, God gives us these little messages and unless we in the mood to hear it, we may miss them). This mess, that can so easily aggravate me, became something totally new. There are little people living in my house. These people that God gave me and that I am blessed to come home to. I am lucky to be their mother. I have little ones (and not so little ones) to come home to, where some mothers only have memories. This mess signifies that I am blessed to have my children at home, able to make these messes and aggravate me. While I would still love to come home to a clean house (and occasionally, like yesterday) I do, the mess is now a welcomed site and a reminder that regardless of what we need or don't have, I am blessed, because I am a mom to 4 amazing children.

I'm not perfect, so I will forget and I will get aggravated because I am not perfect and occasionally, like all human mothers do, will yell and pull my hair out, and later that night I will ask for forgiveness for my yelling and aggravation. I will every night thank God for them, pray over them and pray over myself that I will remember that mess can be a positive thing, even if my personality doesn't agree.

So the next time you walk into your messy house....(and for a brief God-less moment wish for vodka or perhaps a spotless home) remember there is a mother (and father) out there who now wishes that they could open their door to a mess, to fighting siblings or loud music playing and be thankful that you still have that. I know I am.

Until the next scribble.....