A grainy cell phone picture captured a piece of this memory.
My ears throb. My throat aches. My head swims. A sinus and ear infection has rendered momma weak. I flop onto the couch. Dressed in a t-shirt, my husband’s mesh shorts, and an oversize lavender fleece robe, I am a picture of motherly frump. I feel tired. And while my sweet husband cooks a hearty breakfast and brings me a hot cup of coffee (fixed just how I like it), I can’t help but pout a little. I have so much to get done this weekend. Laundry, oh, the laundry. And mopping and scrubbing and well, more laundry. And there are fun things, too, like a friend’s bachelorette party.
But right now, I just sit. Head leaned back into our soft, paisley-pattern couch, legs relaxed, arms …
(Image from momlogic.com)
Lord, I am tired. Head down at 11 p.m. Head up at 5 a.m. With three interruptions in between. I’m not sure how much longer I can last. Years of inadequate sleep have taken their toll on my body. My mind. I am tired. So tired.
And when I feel this way, it’s so hard to let your light shine. It’s not that I want to hide it under a bushel, I just want to crawl under that bushel and go to sleep. Sweet…sleep.
Lord, you’ve known great fatigue, even worse than this. And yet, you kept your eyes focused on your Father. One foot in front of the other, you trudged up that hill, to that place where your life would end. And yet now, I realize, even you fell. Even you struggled under the …
My toddler’s sick bed on the living room floor. Does she need me, or do I need her?
“Mommy, I thought we weren’t supposed to touch baby sister or we’ll get sick!” My preschooler was right. I’d warned her not to give her little sister the customary bedtime kisses and hugs, as she’d just started throwing up an hour earlier. She didn’t understand why I would be cuddling my glassy-eyed, vomiting toddler. But I explained. “Sweetie, this is what mommies do. We take care of our babies. Even if it means we get sick, too. Even when they’re smelly, or yucky, we just pick them up and give them love.”
She gave me a knowing look, and nodded her head. “It’s just what mommies do.”
And I can’t help but feel blessed that this is what I do …
See that one in the back? She’s one of Mr. Sandman’s best secret weapons. She’s already plotting to wake up her sister!
Dear Mr. Sandman,
Well, you’ve done it again. You’ve managed to elude me for the third night in a row. No, make that the third year in a row. Who do you think you are, anyways? You think you’ve got a monopoly on sleep? Huh? You think I can’t go somewhere else to place my order? Ok, so you kind of do have a tight grip on this whole nighttime gig. But there’s got to be someone else out there, there’s got to be! You don’t own me! We didn’t sign a contract!
Sigh. I guess we did sign a contract. Or at least, we renegotiated. Back in the day, after I got married. You …
There’s nothing like Facebook (and a pumpkin muffin from Panera), to distract you while your toddler is crying it out in her room at 1 a.m. (She’s fine, just mad I won’t give her milk.) Here’s a little poem I wrote about items from my news feed to commemorate the occasion.
(image from insidefacebook.com)
Laundry mishap
Mommy rant
Messy child
Pink elephant
Starbucks coupon
Ikea plug
Baby pictures
Cute lil pug
Someecards
Random meme
Family photo
Star Wars theme
Politics
Silly joke
Kitty faces
Thankful note
Gee I’m glad
I logged in
What would I do
Without my friends?
Look at their sweet faces. Can they really drive me crazy? Yes. Yes they can.
Mom?
What?
Um….mom?
What?!
Mom…can I have…um….
WHAT?! You’re stressing me out, kid!
Some days, I am full of love and patience and only soft words for my children. Other days, though, I am impatient and unkind. I am Old Yeller. Trivial things get under my skin. Usually ones that happen after some major annoyance. (Like the toddler knocking over an entire two-liter of Sierra Mist on purpose as you’re pouring a little bit for your sick preschooler who’s laying on the couch. And that was after the dog puked on the floor and the kitty jumped up on the kitchen counter and ate my breakfast.) There are times when I imagine living with cameras in my house, recording my every move. Super Nanny wouldn’t approve.
I …