Most days I wake up with my mind rolling through my schedule
like a news ticker at the bottom of my brain.
It’s always there – scrolling and drawing me back to it – like a
flashing “don’t forget!” I find it hard
to focus on what is plainly on the screen of my awareness. That damn ticker
just keeps scrolling and distracting.
It’s been this way since being baptized by the motherhood fire 2 years
ago. Many messages I heard before the
boys came home were:
“You can’t do this – bring 3 kids home and work. It’s too
much.”
“You’re bringing 3 children home at once? That’s a lot.”
“How are you going to do that?”
I have always had an “I can do anything” attitude. One of my mantras was LL Cool J’s “Doin’ it
and doin’ it and doin’ it well.” So when people said these things to me, I was
like “I got this. Watch me.” Holy sheet,
after 2 years of them home now it’s like, “I clearly don’t have this. Don’t even look at me.”
So the scrolling ticker in my brain is the last thread of
“nailing it” I have left. I am thankful
because it keeps me going on most days and helps me meet the demands. And I have also learned how it distracts and
keeps me from being present. I am
constantly in schedule mode or “what is next.”
That ticker helps me not be caught off guard or miss something in a
family of 5. And I am thankful for that
part of me. And I have also missed out
on a lot of joy and just being alive. I
moved so quickly and fiercely into parenting that now 2 years later I’m looking
back and noticing where I missed some really important cues of just being right
here, right now.
Some hard realities I have faced as a new mother:
1 1. My hormones are jacked up just as if I birthed 3
babies. Post-partum depression is a very real possibility for any kind of new
mom.
2 2. I cannot just go to work and plan my day as
usual. I have soccer practices and games, doctor and other appointments (x3),
etc. There are 3 little men in my care
to teach how to boil water, how to drive, and how to treat young women. No pressure.
3 3. I have lost my identity somewhere along the way.
I miss the fun girl I used to be – who dropped plans last minute and went to
grab drinks with a friend or packed gear up for the weekend to camp with my
husband. She is still there, but she is
in a corner of my mind grieving her lost freedoms.
4 4. I am lonely.
My friends are also in this stage of life, so I can’t just call someone
up to go out on a whim. I contacted at least 10 friends last weekend to go see
“Bad Moms” with me – NO ONE could go.
They were all out of town or busy being in this same stage of life we
are all trying to figure out.
5 5. My marriage gets the shaft. Conversations are about schedules, meal
plans, someone’s health needs, school meetings, homework, clothing needs for
growing boys, how to fit soccer club in the budget, and how to manage their
trauma and special needs. None of this is in the least bit sexy. We stare at each other not recognizing the
other person sometimes. We are exhausted and hungry for deeper connection.
6 6. My needs don’t get prioritized. And when I do
prioritize them, I feel guilty about the cost or time spent. I “should have
spent that time or money some other way.”
7 7. Everything costs more, and I have a hard time
budgeting for the constant unknowns of raising 3 kids.
8 8. There are more things I could add to this list,
but the ticker just distracted me to the other things I need to do today and
that I should probably wrap this up.
I am not knocking motherhood. I am grateful for these boys. I am flooded
with joy and gratitude when I remember seeing their little bodies crowd into a
hot dirty room for “school” in an orphanage and now see them adorably run down
our driveway to catch the bus after having a solid meal. It’s those moments I let the ticker just roll,
and I turn my gaze and attention to the miracle of their being. I am reminded of who they are and who they
are becoming. And I am part of their story. I am reminded of the first time I
held them, the time I came home and told Todd I had met our children, the time
we held each other and sobbed because we spent 2 blissful days with them before
having to board a plane and leave them behind in a different orphanage with new
faces, “new” soiled mattresses, and my old Bible with Psalm 139
bookmarked. I am reminded of the beauty
of being pregnant in the wait and then laboring in delivery - even in
adoption. And I am reminded what a toll
that takes on parents, on marriages, and on our bodies. I am in awe of the resilience we can muster.
Today I woke up hopeful. I noticed the ticker scrolling. And
I also noticed it was Saturday. I slept
in a little longer. I asked my oldest son about the football game last night
and about his time with his girlfriend.
I smelled the bacon Todd cooked for them. I poured my coffee and wrote
this blog. I am living. I am doing the best I can. And I've got more blog posts up my sleeve about how I am making it in the midst of items 1-8 above.
I’ve got this. Go ahead and watch me.
I’ve got this. Go ahead and watch me.
