You've Got My Heart Kid

There are days when I feel like I'm doing alright at this mom gig. Today, Maui thanked me for always being there for her, even adding that I'm the best. Those are the good days. However, if you've ever been around kids for more than a minute, you know that it takes about 3.5 seconds for them to learn how to push your buttons. As a parent, you expect those days.

Then there are the days, that you cry after everyone is in bed. You cry because you hate how you feel. You cry because you feel hopeless. You cry because words sting. You wonder how to put those feelings back into the box and carry on like it ain't no thing.

The other night, you were sitting on my lap. As we sat, you asked me why I am always mad at you and always scream at you.  My first reaction was irritation. Then I was frustrated and hurt. It didn't matter what I countered with, you were sticking to your guns. Added bonus when I was putting you to bed, you told me I needed to brush my teeth because my mouth stunk. Most days I would have brushed that one off and made some goofy joke with you about it, but it just added insult to injury this night.

This was a night that I went to bed crying. I got up and watched you sleep. I laid next to you and kissed your sweet head and I felt awful. I hated that I made you feel like anything less than the absolute gift you are to me.

From the day you were born Brylynn, you've challenged me. You've tried my patience. You've made me work to know you, you're not the open book your older sister was. You've taught me things and made me learn how to adapt. You are you -- un-apologetically and perfectly you. I've always said that you are your father's child without a doubt and overall, you are, but you are also part me.

It took the other night, hearing the words that cut to my soul, and a couple of days of processing to figure it out, but you are mine. You stretch me because you are me. You're harder for me to handle because you are me. You are more emotional than me, but you don't know how to be soft with words. You ask the hard questions because it's easier than making small talk and you get right to the point. You're honest even when it's hard to hear. You're perfectly comfortable being by yourself, because you won't compromise what you want for what others want to do. You stand firm, there isn't a gray area with you, you get that from me. You are very matter of fact.  You are a younger and cuter version of me.

As I thought through the other night, I saw my side. I saw the frustrated mom that nobody wants to listen to unless she is seriously yelling to get someone's attention. I see the mom that is frustrated because the kids will listen to dad, but not mom when she says the exact same thing. I see the frustrated mom that sometimes can't make your tears go away when you don't know why you're crying.

Then I thought through your side and I see why your words are true to you. Mommy seems like she's screaming at me when she yells. When she yells, she must be mad at me. When it's 10:00 p.m. mommy really does need to brush her teeth. I see why you feel those things and I hate that I'm the one that validates those feelings.

It's not always that I have to yell. It's not always that my frustrations are high, but I get that when you're five and tired, that those feelings can rise to the top. That doesn't justify my short-comings or minimize your feelings, it simply states them in that moment very clearly.

But know this baby girl: you are mine. I will love you fiercely until my very last breath. I will spend every day loving you with every fiber of my being even when you're stretching me beyond where I thought I could go. You are me and I am you, and because we don't know any other way, we'll push hard through it all and love even harder.  We'll whisper a secret, we'll hug it out, and we'll always be there for each other. You've got my heart kid. You've got it all.

Cookie Cutter Kids

I remember back in my no child and single child days and my thoughts of "if I ever have a child they'll never act like that" or better yet, "my child will never do...."  Ahh, the blissful ignorance of no children or having a single well behaved child (or as I like to call them, trick children...you know the ones that make you think you've got this parenting thing down).

Now I have four. Four children that do not all act the same. Four children who on any given day can all be in sync or all out of sync. Four that may have it all together or be a hot freaking mess with no in between. I laugh at how silly I was with those thoughts from the early years!  Having four children, makes you more aware of the judgment that people have. It goes beyond the "you've got your hands full" comments. It's the looks of judgment when one (or more) act up. Guess what pal? I'm not raising cookie cutter kids, and I don't need your approval.

I'll be the first to admit that my kids are far from perfect, though in many ways I think they can be pretty close. They have their days where they can "please" and "thank you" and be the best behaved things you've ever seen. Those days are glorious for me as a mom. Realistically though, those days aren't every day, heck sometimes they are few and far between. Not because they haven't been taught those things. Not because we as their parents don't expect those things, but because they're kids and I'm raising Wildflowers.

So on the days when they are great, I'm grateful. Other days, you may see me sitting outside a dance class because one doesn't want to go back without me. So she sits with me as her sisters go. Then on the way home, she cries the entire time because she missed class. There are days when the back talk is real and friends don't get to come over and play.  There are days that they chant through the supermarket because they want some junk food that I wouldn't get. Then there are days that I give in because frankly I'm worn out and it's just easier.  Not always my proudest mom moments, but survival happens. It's these days that I pick up on the looks and comments more. As if you see something that I don't already see and know. Yep, my kid is acting up. Yep, that's not the socially acceptable norm. Yep, good for you and your judgment. Seriously, buddy I'm not an idiot. But you know what, you don't live my life. You have no idea how their day or my day has been, so you could probably chose to be a lifter and speak life instead of the jerk that you're being. The looks and comments aren't helpful in case you didn't know. And news flash, they're human, they have bad days, I have bad days; they aren't cookie cutters that we plopped out of box and all behave exactly as designed.

I see it in a way that you don't. In a way, I feel bad for you and that you don't have the pleasure of trying to manage four unique and beautiful personalities. I see the bond and the accountability that comes from missing out on something because someone couldn't tow the line of expectation so everyone missed out. I hate that you can't see the beauty of us letting them learn for themselves and learn from their mistakes. It's our job to mold these souls into people that can succeed on their own, love with their whole being, fight for what they believe in, be proud while being humble, can pick themselves up when they fall, and work hard for it all. Sometimes in order to get there, they learn the hard lessons, they cry in public, they throw a fit and miss out, they get a reward that you may deem unjust, but see, it's not up to you, it's up to me. So keep your looks of judgment and your underhanded comments that you think I'm too stupid to pickup on to yourself; these girls are doing just fine and they'll succeed with or without your approval.