A Rant of Gratefulness
Oh my goodness, baby number two is no joke! I’ve seen so many shows, social media posts, and ads of how flawless folks make parenting look. I sit confused thinking, “Dang, what am I doing wrong?” Sometimes, I post pictures of my beautiful children on social media. The final photo is usually after a couple (okay a lot) of snaps were discarded. You know the ones, with the baby falling out or your oldest daughter refusing to smile (after a bribe you see all of her teeth). There is never a one snap perfect picture. Beyond pictures, I have the once dreadful car rides. We can now drive peacefully in a car with Ava. Thank God! Our mobile trips had me literally in tears because of the screaming and crying showered upon us by my beautiful baby. She hated being strapped down in the car seat and did not want me to stop at any point of the ride. We all know that is not realistic. To avoid heavy traffic and red lights, I would ride at least 15 minutes out of the way. There is no cushy way to write about how much work goes into being a parent, wife, and career woman. At times, I am just too tired to smile. I know parents with more than 2 kids are probably rolling their eyes at me, but this is my truth.
Having children is like figuring out how to fit puzzle pieces together on nearly a daily basis. And having multiple kids is like those small middle pieces of a puzzle. It ain’t easy. The pressure of making sure my oldest daughter does not feel left out is always a constant thought in the back of my mind. I have to make sure everyone is hugged and kissed on. Of course, when you have an infant, the household is shortchanged because the little one requires so much attention. Recently, I was running around the house and rolling on the floor with Brielle. Her eyes held this extra sparkle of enjoyment. The twinkle in my daughter’s eyes revealed to me the realization and the importance of spending more time alone with her. It was a moment of personal chastising. I had been mommy the manager, but not mommy the nurturer. My motherly intuition helped me to duly note the importance of clearing out my schedule for her. NOW, my house no longer holds the cleanliness I am accustomed to or would like. It is now a small Toys ‘r us/Sesame Street/Barbie life rolled into one. Oh dear, I forgot the baby doll nursery. Friends, you didn’t tell me about the toys that would become our new bed buddies. Not sure how toys mysteriously appear under my sheets and comforter. Do you know? My daughter doesn’t. Honey, let me not talk about the overflowing mountain of laundry that needs to be folded as I write this blog post.
There is no perfect way of mothering, nor being a wife. You have to figure out what works best for your household. If grilled cheese, a bowl of cereal (with or without milk), or popcorn is the best you can muster up for dinner some some nights, then hey… The kids ate. Do not let social media or people dictate how to run YOUR home. Drive your minivan at your speed.
I often sit and think to myself I prayed for all of this. Most importantly, God honored my prayers. I figure if he listened then he knew I was more than capable of handling it all.