Tag Archive | mom

The Mommy “Angel”….

To the mommy who didn’t sleep tonite cuz she was up with a sick baby, I noticed.

To the mommy who is still wearing maternity jeans at 6 months post delivery cuz she can’t afford new ones, I noticed.

To the mommy who skipped garlic toast with dinner so her family could each have 2, I noticed.

To the mommy who buys generic deodorant so her family can eat name brand peanut butter, I noticed.

To the mommy who is still up doing laundry or dishes after 1 am, I noticed.

To the mommy who is rocking her sick baby in the steamy bathroom at 4am, I noticed.

To the mommy who hasn’t had 4 hrs of strait sleep in a year, I noticed.

To the mommy who is scraping whatever that weird gunk is between the stove & counter, I noticed.

To the mommy who goes around spraying Lysol on all surfaces multiple times per day, I noticed.

To the mommy cleaning poo/pee off the potty numerous times per day, I noticed.

To the mommy who has said her thousandth “protection” prayer for her children, I noticed.

To the mommy who has compared herself yet once again to the latest celebrity moms body, I noticed.

To the mommy who has read the same bedtime story for the hundredth time, I noticed.

To the mommy who has layed on the floor holding her childs hand so he/she could  sleep, I noticed.

To the mommy who has spent hours helping her child with their science project, I noticed.

To the mommy who has stayed up all night worrying about a sick child, I noticed.

To the mommy who has worried herself sick during her childs first overnight stay, I noticed.

To the mommy who has repeated “stranger danger” to her children several times, I noticed.

To the mommy who has felt ugly at the end of the day, I noticed.

To the mommy who doesn’t feel valued, I noticed.

To the mommy who loves her family more than herself, I noticed.

To the mommy who cuts coupons, makes lists, and juggles the bills, I noticed.

To the mommy who hasn’t felt sexy since she was 3 months pregnant, I noticed.

To the mommy who tries to make each holiday and birthday special, I noticed.

To the mommy who cooks a meal or two each and everyday, hearing the words “eww”, I noticed.

To the mommy who does her families laundry each week, I noticed.

To the mommy who changes the bedclothes each week…whether they looked dirty or not, I noticed.

To the mommy who struggles thru the evening child bath with smiles and tickles, I noticed.

To the mommy who scrapes yet another egg crusted skillet, I noticed.

To the mommy who sat alone in the middle of the night feeling inadequate, I noticed.

To the mommy who rocked her colicky baby while crying herself, I noticed.

To the mommy who 2nd guessed herself on every child rearing decision, I noticed.

To the mommy who cut ravioli into equal portions for her children, I noticed.

To the mommy who tried to explain Jesus, Santa, or the Easter Bunny, I noticed.

To the mommy caring for children, grandchildren and parents/grandparents, I noticed.

To the mommy scrubbing baseboards/nooks & crannies, I noticed.

To the mommy singing the ABC’s one more time, I noticed.

To the mommy hugging her child & kissing their boo boo, I noticed.

To the mommy wiping the ickiest body substances for the 10th time that day, I noticed.

To the mommy who goes without a new winter coat so her children can have new, I noticed.

To the mommy who skips her prescription this month so her child can have his, I noticed.

To the mommy who fears she is making many mistakes, I noticed.

To the mommy who checks her sleeping babies breaths, I noticed.

To the mommy who sneaks cauliflower into the mashed potatoes, I noticed.

To the mommy who makes her childs lunch everyday, I noticed.

To the mommy who tucks their child in each and every night, I noticed.

To the mommy who scares away the “bad monsters” everynite, I noticed.

To the mommy who has braced herself for the after school “listen to my story first” onslaught, I noticed.

To the mommy who has had to read a thousand stories outloud to her child, I noticed.

To the mommy who skipped her shower today so her children could have a hot bath, I noticed.

To the mommy who skipped a cookie so her child could have two, I noticed.

To the mommy who felt inadequate when compared to another mommy, I noticed.

To the mommy who felt second best when compared to a “work outside the home” mommy, I noticed.

To the mommy who tried to remain calm when she was scared out of her mind for her child, I noticed.

To the mommy who listened to an hour long story of a “booger picker” at school, I noticed.

To the mommy  who heard “But Tommy/Marys mom always lets them do it!” a hundred times, I noticed.

To the mommy who has heard “I hate you!”, I noticed.

To the mommy whose heart has broken during each of her childs sad times, I noticed.

To the mommy who has had to smile thru tears, I noticed.

To the mommy who has felt invisible, I noticed.

To the mommy who felt all alone, I noticed.

To the mommy who wondered if anyone noticed their home décor, I noticed.

To the mommy who has tried to freshen up after a day of spit up and diapers, I noticed.

To the mommy who has had to referee another sibling fight, I noticed.

To the mommy who has given her life for her children…I noticed.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………..signed, The Mommy Angel

Am I Here?

She sat in the car. Feeling numb and sluggish. Thoughts floating in and out of her mind. How did it come to this? How had her life ended up here? She was a young girl once, with dreams and ideals. She had goals for her life. Ending up a useless, sick middle-aged nobody wasn’t one of them.

Growing up was hard. Her parents weren’t ready for such a monumental job as parenting. They were young and immature, but it’s not their fault her life went nowhere. Yes, there was the almost constant physical and emotional abuse in the house thru the years, but she had good coping skills. She was a people pleaser, always trying to do the right thing, be the “good girl”, the “good student” the “good” everything. She didn’t always succeed, but more often than not, she did.

She wanted to be a lawyer. She wanted to do family law, so she could help children from abusive homes, help women break away from controlling husbands. But as senior year came, the reality of needing either alot of money or huge scholarships, slapped her square in the face, and life happened instead.

She got married, to a controlling and abusive husband. Had three beautiful little boys, who she loved with all her heart. Not having a career, or a loving relationship, left her alot of time and energy to place all her love on those boys. They were her life. They are who she lived for.

She stood between them and her abusive husband when he wanted to instill harsh discipline. She made sure things stayed “just so” around the home to keep the peace. She made excuses for the boys when their rooms weren’t tidy or their grades weren’t stellar. She made sure to always scrape together enough money to give the boys wonderful birthdays and Christmases! Seeing them open their gifts or blow out birthday candles with the glow of pure innocent happiness…made all the bad things in life worth going thru.

The years passed, the boys grew. The older they got, the less they needed her. She still stayed the “buffer” between the kids and the rest of the cruel world. Sacrificed all she could to make sure they were happy. The oldest, Christopher, was the first to move out, at 21 he was in a serious relationship and moved in with his girlfriend. He was such a good kid growing up, much like his mother, he was a pleaser. She worried most about this one though, as he was just a tad on the “sensitive” side. He felt things deeply and and felt as though he was not the perfect person he thought everyone expected him to be. Much as she herself felt.

Her middle son left a year later, off to California to live with friends. This about ripped her heart out. The thought of not having her child within a car rides distance was almost too much to bear. But with texts, emails and Skype, she was learning to deal with this “bad” situation, much as she had to learn to deal with so many “bad” situations in her life.

At 18, her youngest Kyle was the last one at home with her. Her baby. He had become the closest to her emotionally of her children. Probably a bit more sheltered and fussed over, being the baby of the family. He seemed to really have the most empathy. He tried to look after his mom. He was the one who noticed when she started to lose weight and stay in bed somedays. He was worried about her, but he was leaving for the Army soon, his dad thought the Army would “toughen” him up. Kyle wasn’t interested in being tough, but felt he hadn’t many options but to join up.

Why get out of bed? She thought one morning around 10am…what’s the point? Would anyone even notice if she didn’t? Other than the dishes in the sink, that might be the one clue to anyone that she wasn’t around that day. What’s she going to do now? She has raised her children and now they are gone. They no longer needed her. Her husband only needed her to bring him his beer and keep his house clean.

The days dragged on and on…the only bright spots being the calls and visits from her sons. They weren’t very frequent though…they were busy with their own lives now. It hurts to feel you put all your love into these little lives, only to grow older and more alone with very little love in return. She felt fatigued more than anything really. Her whole body ached somedays, so she did the chores that couldn’t be ignored and that was it.

At Kyles insistence a year later, she saw her physician for the fatigue and weightloss. They drew blood and performed some other tests and she went back to her daily existence. A week later, she received a phone call. The doctor told her the news right on the phone,..the news wasn’t good, nope, not good at all.

Pancreatic cancer. Which equals “Death Sentence.” She was in a fog the first week after the diagnosis. Just stumbing thru her days, mostly in bed…even her uncaring husband didn’t ask anything of her. She didn’t want to tell the boys right away. She didn’t want to have to draw up the energy to console THEM.

She didn’t have much time left at all. Less than three months. How would she get everything ready in such a short time? Especially when the last month would be a mostly bedridden one? She went about making her own funeral arrangements and after a week, finally called her sons. But none of the three could seem to agree on a good day for them to come for a visit, they were all so busy, with work, relationships, vacations…she told them this was important. She needed them to come.

When they finally arrived, each grumbling about what a kink this visit was putting into their current schedules. She had worked all day on a big dinner. Glazed ham, garlic mashed potatoes, brussel sprouts, white corn, homemade biscuits and gravy. By the time the table was set, she was in so much physical pain she could barely carry the meal to the table. With tears in her eyes, she began serving.

Noone noticed that she didn’t eat, just pushed food around on her plate. The men all carried on a boisterous conversation about current affairs, politics mostly…the one topic she couldn’t stand to talk about or even listen to.  They laughed with their father, joked with him, agreed with most of his views. Have they forgotten how this man behaved toward them growing up? Don’t they recall his tirades? Do they even remember their mom having to stick up for them or keep them from being harshly punished? Do they remember her staying up with them all night when they were ill? Or staying up to help with a last minute science project? Do they recall her holding them, rocking them or consoling them during each of their youthful “crisis” of the moment?

Do they see her as a person? As a woman? As a little girl who sat in the woods, dreaming of the day she would be in a court of law, sending some abusive man off to jail for the atrocities he had his family endure? No. No, they see her as mom. Nobody amazing or special. Just someone who was there whenever they wanted her to be, but who disappeared when they didn’t need her.

She was disposable. She was invisible. She, who had always tried to so carefully “control” her little piece of life…was nobody. But, she wasn’t going to let cancer control how she would die. This she really could control.

Of course the boys all cried and expressed their grief over the fact that she was indeed going to die. She patted their backs, and hugged them and dried their tears. She assured them that she was in no pain and that although she would be leaving them, she would always be in their hearts, and would be forever watching over them from Heaven. After a week of this, they all had to get back to their lives…and she got back to her “non” life.

But now, here in the car, with soft ocean sounds coming from her cd player, the engine quietly idling, she was once again dreaming. With her eyes closed she was once again that little girl, sitting on a stump in the woods…the sun shining down thru the leaves. The trickle of the nearby creek being the music then. She dreamed of the life she thought she’d have. She was important. She was “good”. She was needed.

To that she drifted off to sleep, in a heavily medicated fog, mixed with the carbon monoxide from being in the car…in the garage…for most of the day, without ever having been missed, by anybody.

 

I WAS Here

Being forgotten is worse then not being noticed.

Tired with a dash of defeat

It’s been a long past couple of months.  Pain levels spiraling out of control many days. Family problems suddenly coming out the wazoo.  Stressing out because I feel I am not working enough to contribute to our finances because the pain keeps me from signing up for too many hours.  I feel I’ve failed my family in many ways.  And frankly they have failed me in some ways. That’s just life I guess.  But family is all we have, so we try to work it out.  But when you have a chronic illness, it’s hard to add all of that crap to your already piled up plate..

Will there ever be a day where I wake up and say “Wow! I feel pretty good today!” and hop out of bed and the sun is shining and my  whole family is here, all healthy and happy and loving and honest and appreciative of each other?  Where I can walk around the house without h0lding my butchered abdomen in my hands.  Where I can bend over to pick up something off the floor?  Where I can walk the 2 blocks to the grocery store to carry home a gallon of milk?  Where my children look at me with the love and admiration they had when they were little?  Where my grandmother is healthy and strong and planning on living another 10 years?  Where my dog stops peeing in the house? lol…I just want some happiness.  I want normalcy.  I want this feeling of fatigue and failure to walk the hell out the door and never come back.

So many days I think I should just stay in bed and let life just go on without me.  I evidently do no good when I’m up, so why keep participating in this rat race that is going nowhere?  Why should I keep pushing myself?  Why keep caring and worry about others when that care isn’t reciprocated? Why bother to do anything but take care of myself…and I can barely do that.  I’m just this sick woman who has been living this illusion that me being around was helping others.  That somehow they NEEDED me to be around.  Now I know no one NEEDS me around.  Maybe it’s good that no one needs me….but since my health disaster in 2005, me thinking that my family needed me was what saved me. It was what kept me fighting to live. It’s what forced me to keep going.  Now what keeps me going? As a mom you get used to being needed and looked to for answers. Once they are gone…what are you to do? Especially when you are a sick person? 

I spose it’s just another funk I’m in due to the increase in pain. And the realization that things are not always what you think they are.  People won’t always stay the same or always be there for you.  Sometimes you have to watch people go away. There are alot of cruel and crazy people in the world who can weasle their way into otherwise normal people and make THEM crazy as well. Crazy is contagious I think…

So here it is about 1am and I can’t sleep, although my eyes ache with fatigue.  My hair is falling out again due to stress.  My gutt is feeling like there are two swordsmen in there battling it out. Maybe I have caught one of the crazy bugs, who knows…but I’m feeling a bit lost here.

I don’t know what I’ve ever done to be made to live this way, to be discarded from the world…I just don’t know…but whatever it was I would like to say right now to the Universe I AM SORRY! PLEASE FORGIVE ME! PLEASE EITHER MAKE MY LIFE TOLERABLE BOTH PHYSICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY….OR TAKE ME OUT OF THE GAME! I’M SICK OF THE BENCH.

A DAUGHTER

You can’t believe your dream has come true!

A beautiful daughter, born just for you!

She is perfect in everyway

You gaze at her all night and day

You pray to God each and every night

That you can raise this perfect girl right

As she goes from dolls to boys

You smile as she and her friends giggle, even though you say “keep down that noise!”

She has become a gorgeous young lady who makes you beam with pride

And you fear no man is worthy to have her as his bride

She is far too pretty, too sweet and too kind!

So her suitors will be in a major bind

They must prove they deserve her love

That God sent him from above

Because that’s the only way he’ll pass moms test

Is if God himself says he’s more deserving than the rest

For she was MY girl first and always will be

Because the mother-daughter bond is FOREVER you see!

Public Apology:

This is a public apology…to my children.  Whether they have been bothered by me in the past, the present or will be in the future.  I probably owe you an apology.

I’m sorry that when you were in my womb I talked to you every waking moment as if you would answer me, and read books to you and actually believed that when you did a little turn in there, it was because you were enjoying the story.

I’m sorry that when you were an infant I held you more often than not.  I watched you sleep.  I fretted over you if you slept too much or not enough.  I made sure you were breathing if  you were asleep longer than five minutes.  I read every baby book ever written.  I changed your clothes alot, just cuz you had so many cute outfits!  I took you out just to show you off. I loved to just smell the top of your heads after a bath!  I sang to you all the time.

I’m sorry that when you were a toddler I watched over you like a hawk.  I safety proofed every single thing in the house, every corner, every hard surface, every cabinet, every toilet…was militant about child safety seats, and never once left you with a babysitter that wasn’t related because I was sure you would be injured in some way.  I’m sorry I still read to you and sang to you.  I’m sorry I hovered over you and tried to always keep you safe, clean and out of harms way.  I’m sorry I would tickle your toes just to hear you squeal with laughter!

When you were a child I am sorry I made you eat food you disliked because it was good for you.  I’m sorry I tried to teach you manners.  I’m sorry I let all your friends stay the night whenever you wanted them too, because that kept you safe at home with me.  I’m sorry I made such a fuss if you ever went to another friends house by having to meet the parents.  I’m sorry I made you sit at the table practicing your spelling or math over and over so you could pass the tests.  I’m sorry I sat up late at night with you trying to finish a science project you waited til the last minute to tell me about.  I’m sorry I would make up a fake “ghost detector” so you would be able to sleep at night knowing there were no ghosts under your bed or in your closet.  I’m sorry I waited til you got home from school everyday and asked many questions about what went on at school and what kind of day you had.  I’m sorry for letting one of you eat PB & J for lunch every single day for a year, because that was all you would take to school for lunch.  I’m sorry I had to wrestle one of you almost daily just to get your hair combed because you detested it so.  I’m sorry for any times I was an embarrassment…such as the day I had to chase one of your school busses down the street because they forgot to drop you off….in my pajamas.  I’m sorry for staying up all night when you were sick, cleaning up after your sick tummies expelled their contents allover the beds/floors/clothes/etc., fretting each moment that you would die of some plague not yet discovered by modern medicine.

I’m sorry during  your teen years I made you do your homework.  I’m sorry I made you pitch in with chores around the house, sometimes without an allowance, because that’s just what families do.  I’m sorry I asked 1000 questions whenever you wanted to go somewhere.  I’m sorry I asked more questions with each new friend you made and wanted to hang with.  I’m sorry I didn’t allow you to ride in cars with other teen drivers.  I’m sorry I didn’t allow you to go to parties that I feared there would be “no good” going on.  I’m sorry I griped at you for leaving half full pop cans laying around everywhere or half eaten food in your rooms.  I’m sorry that you didn’t always understand my rules or reasonings.  I’m sorry that when you thought you were “getting away with something” I probably knew about it and just let it go….picking my battles and letting some slide.  I’m sorry that I would let you tell me grandiose stories that I knew were untrue, but I let you believe I believed.  I’m sorry for trying to build your self esteem and self respect.  I’m sorry for trying to teach you about life and about becoming and adult.  I’m sorry I didn’t force you to get jobs because I believed you should enjoy your time as a kid and that school was hard enough.  I’m sorry I didn’t push you to hard academically, again…because I believed no one needs to be brow beaten to exceed at something if they don’t enjoy it.  I’m sorry I tried to protect you from every conceivable danger in the world.

As adults I’m sorry if I still feel I’m a mother who needs to try to help.  I’m sorry if I still think your life is part of mine.  I’m sorry if I still think I can help keep you from making mistakes, I’m sorry if I am still trying to safe guard all the sharp corners of life.  I’m sorry if I still try to make you giggle because I enjoy the sound so much.  I’m sorry if I can’t help myself from giving my opinions on your every move.  I’m sorry if I didn’t fully succeed at preparing you for the hard knocks of life.  I’m sorry if I have ever hurt your feelings or your pride.  I’m sorry if I have ever scared you by being ill.  I’m sorry if I have made mistakes.  I’m sorry if I will continue to make mistakes.  I’m sorry if I will spoil your future children and try to protect them as well.  I’m sorry if I someday become a burden that you won’t have time for.  I’m sorry if I will someday leave you and no longer be around to annoy you in some way.  I’m sorry for feeling guilt at your every misfortune in life.

I’m sorry.  Because….I am a mom…and moms are usually sorry about something. 

“I think a mother is the best friend God gives us.  There are friend moments, and there are mother moments.  Sometimes they are both at the same time”  Virginia Harris

Failure

I am and always have been one of those people who hate to fail.  At anything.  Since I was a young child I have always wanted to “do good” or “be the best” or to “please” those around me.  In elementary school I wanted to be the best speller, the best handwriter, the best kickball player, the best dancer, the best gymnast….you get the idea.

As I grew up, this urge continued.  I had to get straight A’s all throughout nursing school…and did, made it on the Dean’s List, and in the Phi Theta Kappa Honor Society.  Then when I started having children, I wanted to be the “best mommy”…I cuddled and coo’d and rocked and sang….I hovered and loved…maybe too much at times.

Point being, that I can’t stand to fail.  I hate to disappoint anyone.  I hate to do anything badly.  And of course I HAVE failed at things.  I’m not perfect.  But I sooo hate that feeling in my gut when I know I am not doing something well, or when I feel I’ve made a mistake, or I think someone is mad at me or thinks badly of me…I just hate it!  I am my worst critic as the old saying goes.  I’m hard on myself for sure.  I used to be worse than I am now…but it’s still there.

There are days when (in my head) I will have a running dialogue that goes something like this: “Man, you are such an idiot.  You know you are the worst mother in the world right?  You have really screwed things up sister! Why can’t you be a good mother?  What is wrong with you?  Why did you do that the way you did?” or “Wow…what a moron!  You just said the dumbest thing to that person…ya know they think you’re a complete idiot now, right? Why can’t you talk right?  What is wrong with you?” or “Geeze you are a fat pig!  Look how ridiculous you look in this outfit!  Like a big fat cow in capris! Why can’t you lose weight?” or “My God, look at all this dog hair on the floor!  This house is a pigpen!  Can’t you keep it cleaner?  More organized? What a loser!” or “You just spent waaay to much money on groceries!  Why can’t you be like those genius coupon women?” or “Look at that athletic healthy woman jogging down the street…why can’t YOU do that?” or “Great…another burnt dinner, take cooking lessons already!”

The crazyness is endless…the conversations that go on in my head….I feel like a failure in so many ways on so many days.  Even when it’s someone else who is failing…if I feel I coulda or shoulda prevented their problems…I blame myself.  If I’m in a group of people and someone seems pissed off…I immediately assume it’s my fault and go about trying to make them “UN pissed off”….try to get into their good graces.  If a friend doesn’t call me for a week…I immediately think “Oh my God!  What did I do?  I must have pissed her off last time I saw her!  What did I say?  What did I do?”  It is of course insane to be this way…I know this…but can’t stop it.  Sometimes I will be driving and just start thinking about all the things that I perceive myself to have failed at and will burst into tears.  “I’m a bad mom!  I’ve ruined my kids!” “I spent too much money!  We are gonna be broke!” “I pissed my coworkers off!  Now they hate me!” ” I just cut that guy in the blue truck off!  Now he thinks I’m a dumb woman driver!”…..lol….pathetic, I know.

So, what is the answer?  I’m not sure…there is probably a self help book out there I can read….I’ll look into it….but it wouldn’t help…I would read it, then figure I failed to learn the message it had.

Oh well….some people are out there and couldn’t care less if they fail or succeed.  I bet they are soo happy!  Grrr!
“Success is a matter of luck. Ask any failure.”  Earl Wilson