I’m putting the finishing touches on my first book this week. And feeling insecure and incapable of doing so, but having to push through the unknown into what I know I am dreaming of. And pulling my hair out a little and giving myself the ” Okayest Mother of the year award.”
I give this to myself daily , as I know I’m not the best Mother in the world. No one is. In fact I mostly suck at being a Mom. It’s about a 57/ 43 split, and I had to use the calculator on my phone to do that. Some days I feel like super woman. But mostly I just want to sleep because , SLEEP.
I’ve gotten to the point in my Motherhood where we are slowly but surely transitioning out of diapers and midnight feelings and I can see beyond my sleep deprived eyes a bit. I can see the next season as I lay down at night. Exhausted and not so ready for the next day. But it comes anyway, and I’m grateful. So grateful I have three tiny things to be tired from.
As I bathed the quinoa off all three littles tonight I reflected on the day and had to laugh. Like God saw me, Rachel , fit to mother these creatures.
At one point I caught Rhema going through my tampons, and trying to duplicate what she has seen me do during that certain time of the month. Because you KNOW I am never in the restroom alone. In fact, can we PLEASE not call it that? There’s no rest in there. I call it the theatre. Because whatever I am doing is broadcasted, listened to and talked about.
I get reviews from my production in there. They hear the sliding door close and come running. It’s like a cattle call. Like I need hair and makeup before I ” go on”. Rachel, you’re on. Take 17. And I don’t even get champagne before the show. Just leftover apple juice. That’s not even fermented. And often I have to breast feed my toddler while relieving myself.
My three year old has a recent obsession with wedgies. She learned about them in Sunday school, and before you ask me what religion we are I’m here to say she is my husbands child, with my sense of humor. Whatever is on her mind she spouts out. She would be an excellent choice for the future Congress, or to take Ellen’s place.
She is so obsessed with wedgies in fact that I noticed her pulling up her tiny panties today, and asking me if I could SEE her wedgie through her shorts. I then contacted Dr Phil to see if he could feature our family and raise money for my daughters recent illness.
I gave myself the okayest mother of the year award during dinner when Asher tried to help Rhema with her quinoa by catapulting her spoon into the air in hopes of reaching her mouth. He missed and the quinoa landed in my wine glass. I wasn’t ashamed to continue to drink said glass of wine because it was wine and I don’t need to explain anything further. The quinoa eventually ended up in her mouth with bribery from vanilla ice cream.
We ended the day with a series of kisses and hugs and prayers and book readings and Rhemas now famous words:
” Momma, did you have a bad day?”
” No honey, it’s just hard being a Momma sometimes.”
” it’s ok. Everyone gets wedgies Rachel.”
Again with the wedgies. All prayers are appreciated.
Just before bed Rhema found a trophy from the closet re do I was working on aimlessly during the day today. Cleaning out crap and trying to keep the crap from being taken to their rooms and hidden in secret places for me to find later , I found this random trophy.
Here is my trophy from 1999. I was age 12 , just about to hit puberty. Without a thought in my mind of the wedgie obsessed daughter, or my breast feeding toddler or my Olympic swimming 5 year old. I was just 12. Dreaming of the next sleepover and when my boobs would finally grow. Little did I know that was never. God bless me.