i promise

I woke up this morning feeling defeated.  I cried in the shower.  And I cried again (sobbed, really) as I read this about moms being heroes on my tablet during breakfast.

My favorite part?

"You are a hero.

Every single day. When you get up and rise and love on those kids and give of self. Don't ever listen to the lies of the world that tell you that you are only a good mom if you do x, y, and z. Motherhood isn't graded by the number of pinterest projects completed, or clever facebook status updates, or perfectly executed birthday parties, or the number on the scale. Motherhood isn't this quantifiable thing - it's not graded by everything you accomplish, but rather is a beautiful example of giving of self and loving even when the reserve tank is empty."  

-Rachel Martin @ Finding Joy

So many of us compare ourselves to other mothers, and what we think other mothers are doing.  It's so unfair. None of us have walked in each others' shoes.  I love the way Rachel can make me stop. Reflect. Recognize.  What I do here matters.

Josh going back to work has been a challenge.  I am not sure if it's just cause he was home for so long, or what. If it's Wyatt's teething, or the fact that Logan and Jack have chosen this week to test all the rules we have... Whatever it is, the last two days have been really hard.

If I'm being honest, which I strive to be, it could just be me.  I have been feeling kind of down the last two days. A bit weepy...  Emotional.  Sad.  Yesterday this made for a frustrated, impatient mama.  The twins have finally stopped hitting (hallelujah!), but have moved on to not listening, and not thinking.  I tell one not to do something, just to have the other do it.  I ask for three jobs to be done and they only get one accomplished.  They are throwing toys, coloring on clothes and pouring water into the drawer of the refrigerator.
sigh.

Wyatt is also misbehaving these days. Brother can tantrum.  If I tell him no, he stomps his foot down, hits his leg with his hand and says, "Oh!" in the most disappointed, whiny voice he can muster.  He will also throw himself down for a full on feet-kicking, arm-slapping, forehead-whacking tantrum.  This means I am having to give him timeouts as well.  Already.  He's only 18 months!

(On a positive note, last week he started voicing "sorry" and it's the cutest thing ever.  "Jacks," he says to his brother, with his adorable lisp, "Sawees."  About two weeks ago he started adding an "s" to the end of everything.  Hence, "Sorrys.")

---

I am not sleeping. Wyatt is up within an hour of my falling asleep, and is awake again between 4 and 5am.  By the time I rock him back to sleep and climb into bed, one of the twins is usually awake to bother me.  We have resorted to withholding the Cinnamon Toast Crunch if the big ones are up before the light turns green.  Desperate times, desperate measures. 

---

Aside from a sad baby (all day he walked around saying, "Daddy go work, Daddy go work," in the most pitiful voice) and obnoxious twins yesterday, I think I was feeling empathy stress. Our friends (aka most of Josh's coworkers) got stuck in Bethel overnight because of weather.  Then the following day, their airplane literally made it to Marshall, (Josh was waiting for them at the airport and even waved at them) and they had to turn around and go back to Bethel. It was too foggy for the pilot to make the landing!  They finally made it out yesterday afternoon, and I was so happy to see everyone, especially my girls!  {Leah & Susan} 

Then I tried to do my workout, which right now is running in the playroom (in place) for fifteen minutes, then some stretching, push ups and crunches, and when I started running, it felt like my bones were splinters inside my feet.  I have been running barefoot all this time, and I think it's catching up with me.  So I had to do some yoga instead.  I mentioned on my blessings blog that my heart wasn't in it.  I did it, but I wasn't happy.  Then, post workout, I tried to get on the internet to post a blog, and the internet wasn't working. Grr... Then I gave in, deciding to get a head start on next week and plan school for the twins, and when I walked into the kitchen and flipped the light switch, the light bulb went out.

Seriously!?!

About twenty minutes later, I noticed this terrible burning smell... Josh and I eventually figured it was the dump.  When they burn and there's no wind, it can smell pretty awful. Because of the smell, we stayed up, knowing we couldn't just lay in bed breathing it into our pillows.  I managed to get Christmas put away, plan our dinner menu for the week, and did all the dishes.  Through all of my chores, though, I just felt apathetic, sort of blah.

Today I gave into it.  I got so much done last night with the smell of the dump burning (which actually turned out to be a neighbors' forgotten dinner on the stove!) that when I woke up today, my to-do list was negligible.  I managed to order some running shoes (hello 6pm.com) and print my life story so I can send it to my grandma.  I also wrote in my prayer journal.  That's it. Josh made dinner. Cereal.  The power went out when he was going to get eggs started, and we were afraid it would go out again, so we opted for a safer solution. The kids were thrilled!

Other than those few tasks, I just spent the day with my kids.  I read to Logan upstairs on my big bed facing our picture window that displayed the snow globe we live in.  Snow swirling in the raging wind, flying by the window sideways.  Logan was so happy to sit in my lap for those moments, not having to share me.  Hours later I did a puzzle at the kitchen table with Jack, watching his eyes as his brain worked to figure out which piece came next.  The slight smile that snuck onto his face after locking each piece into place was priceless.  Wyatt's special time was tonight after baths, his big brothers still getting scrubbed down in the tub.  I held him, cozy in his fleece moose jammies, tickling his neck and singing "Say Say Oh Playmate" on demand.  He was so happy, his eyes widening as he waited for my next attack.

I am still ending the day feeling a bit melancholy,
but way better than I would have felt if I'd spent the day any other way.  

Watching The Sandlot with the twins while Wyatt napped, laughing with them when Ham says, "You play ball like a GIRL!!!"; making pudding and helping stir when their hands got tired; doing pre-school, teaching and re-teaching how to write the letters; getting our "ex-ter-cize out" with their Move & Groove tape this afternoon, running, laughing and squealing as we galloped around the living room; making "silly sandwiches" (ritz crackers with pb&j) for snack; listening as they watched Super Why, shouting out the Super Letters they found; and reading four books instead of just two at bedtime, as I sat on the couch in my bedroom flanked on each side by a happily exhausted four year old, Daddy reading board books to Wyatt on the floor...

Despite its imperfections, today was actually the perfect day.

And so, for the rest of this week, and into the next,

i promise:

to take care and teach
to breathe
to spend ten minutes of individual time with each of our three children, doing whatever, each day
to journal
to workout
to be happy & find joy