For my Children

(chalkboard art - compliments of Joseph)

Every night I go into your room to check on you before I go to bed. I see you laying there so sweetly and peacefully. I place my hand on your head and stroke your hair then lean in to kiss your cheek and whisper "Mommy loves you" in your ear. It's usually at this time that the weight of the day comes crushing down on me and the guilt sets in for anything and everything related to mothering that I've done or not done for that day. Guilt for the missed opportunities to show you how much I love you. Guilt for not enjoying every little cute or funny thing you said or did (because I was too stressed or too irritated with all the messes or the bickering to even notice). Guilt over forgetting you're a child and being too hard on you for doing things that kids just do. Guilt over a harsh word spoken or a lost temper that erupted far more than was necessary for that given situation. Guilt over the misuse of my time (however well-intentioned) I allowed myself to get caught up in the "thick of thin things" and I missed those opportunities to share in those simple joyful moments with you my sweet children.

The most hurtful thing is when I find notes that you've scribbled on a little piece of paper or written on your chalkboard that say things like "Mommy's mean" or "Mommy doesn't love me" just because you were punished or sent to your room. Or the times when I tuck you in at night and you roll over to the far end of the bed where I can't reach you on that top bunk because I've hurt your feelings and you're still sulking over being punished. You won't even let me give you a hug and kiss goodnight. It wouldn't upset me as much if I thought you were just trying to get attention. The reason it makes me so sad is because I know you really are hurt and the cause of your hurt is because of my inability to handle your quirky, obnoxious, disobedient behavior. In that moment I know that you really do feel I'm "the meanest Mom" and sometimes there's a part of me that believes you.

Later that evening I leave your room after giving you that kiss on your cheek and whispering "Mama loves you" in your sleeping ear. Another day over, another battle fought. We've both been wounded but we'll feel better in the morning. All will be forgiven; the slate is washed clean and we'll both start over again. You'll come down for breakfast rubbing your sleepy eyes and I'll meet you at the bottom step. "Good morning sweetheart, how did you sleep?" And so another day begins.....

I'll keep trying to love you and parent you the best that I can and hope that my best will be good enough to help us both get through the day with a happier ending. I'll try harder to let go of the stresses and messes and enjoy each of your sweet smiling faces. I will try harder to savor the things you say and do that should make me laugh instead of make me mad. I will try to be the mother to you that I thought was so easy to be......until I had 4 kids.

I'm sorry for everything that I do that does not fit that cookie cutter mold I had designed in my mind. The mother I wanted to be (and once was) before my plate was so full and so much of me was spread so thin. My hope and desire has always been to be the kind of mother that you look back on with the sweetest of memories. I've never wanted anything more than that for you my sweet, precious children. Please don't interpret my shortcomings and inabilities to manage myself as an indicator of my love for you. It hurts me more than you can know that I've fallen from that high place in my idealistic mind and regularly find myself not on that top shelf but in a heap on the floor picking myself up (yet again) and climbing back up to that place in which I want to be. Please be patient with me and know that I love you more than you could ever know. And please Heavenly Father help my children to survive my shortcomings.