Mom Confession

I have been at home with a sick child for the past five days.  You might be thinking a lot of things – like “Oh, bless his heart” or “Oh, it must be good to have a mama caring for him.”  Here’s what you don’t say out loud – “Oh, I bet you are tired of waking up in the middle of the night and cuddling" or "I bet you are ready to start seeing clients again." And I don’t care to admit it either.  But I’m going to admit it.  For the sake of all other moms out there struggling to admit their shameful inadequacies, here goes nothing…

I’ve heard other moms talk about cuddling their sick child, making soup, rubbing feet.  I’m doing those things, but somehow it feels like I'm missing something.  I know it’s important.  Heck, when I think about being a sick kid I wanted those things. I want those things as an adult!  But as a human, I’m painfully limited.  I make soup with frustration that my kid is home from school another day and all my plans are shot to poo.  I cuddle with thoughts of “Dear Jesus, please don’t let his germs jump on me and brew a demon in my belly too.”  I rub his feet thinking, “Please make this end soon.”  Ugh – are you still reading?  Are you thinking what a terrible and selfish mom I must be?  Me too.  It’s embarrassing. I’m a therapist for crying out loud! I help people! I have compassion! I nurture!  AND I’M HUMAN.  So are you, dear sister.  So call a friend. Be honest. Tell her that all you want to do is punch something because the monster in your kid's tummy keeps waking him up in the middle of the night.  When I said this to my friend today she was thankful I was honest with her.  She said when she has tried to admit this vulnerability to other friends, “the blank stares were enough to send her running for cover.” Oh dear.  C’mon friends, let’s be in this together.  We are all wired differently. I may feel completely inadequate at the nursing part, but here’s what I can do… I just taught my kid to take deep breaths and talk to his belly. He’s so pent up with gas and is afraid to fart.  He said, “Mom, I might poop myself and break my underwear.”  Legit fear.  So here we go…deep breath in. Deep breath out.  Now tell your belly it’s okay to fart.  “C’mon belly, it’s safe to fart.  If you poop yourself it will be okay. We’ll clean up the mess.”

Y'all, it's not warm and fuzzy, but it's working.  And that’s the kind of mom I am.  I’m owning it.  So what if I’m following my kid around disinfecting him and everything else with OnGuard oil (this stuff is amazing for keeping his fever down and keeping the rest of us from getting sick too – click here for more info and message me if you need some!).  I'm the mom I've heard other moms talk about.  But I love him so big.   I'm a million kinds of blessed to have him and his brothers in my life and to be given the job of being their mama.  I’m doing a good job.  I’m enough.  So are you!  If we do this all wrong and poop ourselves it will be okay – we can clean up the mess.

 Sweet sick little Wendy pictured with his elf he named Jason Derulo.