Super Mom

Recently it has been brought to my attention that while out in public, I may appear like I know what I am doing. While I take that as a super huge compliment, I feel obligated to share with some of my struggling new mommy friends that I really don't have super powers, super patience, or some magic secret.

I decided sometime in the last 6 years that this is what I am doing with my life. I am taking these little blessings and turning them into great adults. It will be a long trip. A hard fought war. But in the end, I think the payoff, and I guess the payoffs in the middle too, are totally worth it. That doesn't mean, however, that I act the right way all the time.

When my oldest son was born, I suffered from what I now know was severe post pardom depression. Every time he would cry (which was the entire time he was awake) I would cry. When he wouldn't nurse, I would cry. When he wouldn't sleep, I would cry. When he threw up, I would cry. For more than 8 months, my colicky son and I would sit around the house and cry. I was a Nanny, a licensed day care provider, an educated teacher, and I couldn't make one baby stop crying. Didn't exactly do much for my mental state! But, as a new mom, I thought once I left the house I was supposed to put on a big smile, parade around with my cute (but always crying) baby, and tell everyone how great we were doing. Just about the time I thought I had some sort of control over my life, I got pregnant again. Back to crying for me! What was I going to do with a second kid? Was she going to cry all day? I didn't think I could handle a screaming baby and a very demanding big brother who would only be 18 months old when the baby came.

Very soon I didn't have any time to think about what was going to happen when the baby came, I was too busy trying to figure out how to balance a full time daycare group and constant morning sickness. The days flew by, with some funny stories in between, and the baby came. She was nothing like her big brother. Still pretty demanding, as all babies are, but full of smiles and only a few spit ups a day. She boosted my confidence that I might actually be able to do this mommy thing.

Rolling right along, I got a "surprise" baby three, and he was closely followed by baby four. Discovering that babies come from beer bottles, we decided that we should probably quit while we were ahead. There were days that I questioned my own quitting decisions. No, not that I should have more. That I should have stopped a few kids ago. My fourth child was as demanding, colicky, pukey, and hard to handle as the first. Only this time I had three other kids of my own, all under 5 years old, that wanted my love and attention as well.

Alot of soul searching, decision making, and deep breathing, and I am now able to handle my life. Dare I say, I enjoy my life. Kids are fun! Seeing things through their eyes is amazing! Taking 6 kids under 6 years old to the grocery store is a challenge, but I have decided that kids aren't meant to be cooped up in the house kept away from the real world. Think of how many things there is to learn from the grocery store! It was not a fast trip. It wasn't a stress free trip. And, it was only a "kinda" productive trip. But it was a pretty educational trip for the little monkeys that had the list and had to find the stuff in the store. I did not lose my cool in public. I did not lose it when we got home either. But I most definitely had a drink with dinner. (and must admit that the stress of the day did make me a little irrational when my daughter spilled her brother's milk all over her plate at dinner time, promptly followed by the ENTIRE table and its contents crashing to my mom's kitchen floor).

But, the daycare kids went home with smiles on their faces, and my own kids still loved me enough for kisses and hugs at the end of the day, so I must be doing something right. And, all those mommies I mentioned at the beginning of this, you're doing just fine too. Everyone still breathing at the end of the day? That's a job well done! It doesn't matter that you didn't get all the laundry done (mine never does), the bed made, or even if you got dressed today. It matters that your kids love you. It matters that, despite the toll on your body and your mental state you are being the best mommy you can be, even if it isn't quite what you thought it would be.