A bad mother reveals the truth.

I am a bad mother. I have learned this, and I'm ok with it. Because I am the type of mother I want to be. I do what I feel is right, and what I feel is best for my kids, regardless of what others think.

This is on the way home from a trip to visit family in Idaho this weekend. And what is she drinking? Not just pop, (or not just soda, for those from those areas of the country), she's drinking Mountain Dew. Yeah, the stuff that's not good for her. But she likes it, and it doesn't really make her hyper. It was my drink Though! My sister says her child will not be drinking any pop, or have candy, until she's at least 12. I respect that, but I'm not that type of mother.

A good mother might worry when their children are running outside in the mud, or when they pass within arms length of somebody who "might" be sick. Not me! kids get dirty, it's a fact of life, i'm ok with that. In fact, if my kids will play in the mud and actually get dirty . . . even better! They usually don't like being dirty.

As for the disease. It's one of those things I don't worry about. My kids have had their immunizations, and I know they will probably get colds, flu's, and little things as life goes on, but I can't keep them in a little bitty bubble for the rest of their lives.

one last thing I know I could do better? My 2 year old's nose is not always wiped. She's not sick, it's allergies, .... I keep her nails short, give her Benadryl when her itching gets bad, (we don't know what causes the allergies yet, the doctor wants to wait until she's 5 to test.). So her nose runs, and I wipe it, I've been keeping it wiped for 2 years now, and sometimes, I don't care. She can run around outside and I can't keep it perfect. Oh well. Its' more important to me that my kids grow up as children, then to have them as mini adults. They have the rest of their lives to worry about responsibility and being adult, I'll let them be children for now.

Blood tests

It's been a week since I've blogged, and I almost feel guilty. Ok, I really do feel bad about it. However, I did update the sweet upbeat family blog last week, so at least I did something. (Paulsenmonkeys.blogspot.com). Friday was the day I've been dreading for weeks ... the blood test! :-( Yeah, it sucked. Worst part? I had to be fasting for It! one of the test they did was a fasting blood sugar, so I couldn't eat 12 hours before. Keep in mind here, I get sick if I skip one meal, so not eating all morning ... killed me.

This week I'll get the results. It was hormone testing, the whole gamut. The end Result: since we know my thyroid is fine, it's the whether I have PCOS, or what my problem really is. They took 8 vials of blood!

Did I learn anything? Yeah. Skipping meals makes me sick. :) I'll know more later.

It was a pride thing. I haven't wanted to do the full testing, because that's admitting there is something wrong they have to test for. But for my sake, and for the sake of my children, it was time.

In more upbeat news, my sister in law is being induced this afternoon, and she said she'll probably have the baby tonight. (Induced at 4 ... so it'll be born .. tomorrow. )

So we look forward to her having the baby tomorrow night ... after a typical induction for a first child, long, painful, and miserable. The best part being that a baby comes out of all the pain!

Is it my fault?

In honor of valentines Day, I could write a sappy sweet entry on how much I love my husband, and how much he loves me ... but you know what, love is more than sappy. It's what we do every day.

Somehow, I've become a hovermommy, I don't know how it happened, or when it happened. Once upon a time I took my little 18 month old to nursery, smiled, left him, and walked away.

Today, I dropped off my 3 year old in sunbeams, heard him screaming, and turned around. The teacher assured me he'd be fine. And I was hesitant to leave. Yeah, I trust he'll be fine, but ....

My mind flashes back to those comments over the years ... is this what turned me into a hovermommy?

"He went hysterical, I had to bring him back to you"

"He was upsetting the other kids"

"I'm sorry, but I can't babysit your boys anymore at my house. They're too rambunctious"

"He wouldn't calm down."

"there is nothing wrong with your children except poor parenting." (Yes, I actually heard this one)

"We'd stop by, but last time your son taught my son the word no, and we were so careful not to each him that." (Yeah right, like her 2 year old son had never heard the word no in his life?... )

This wasn't a rare occurrence, this was ... ok, I admit it, every freakin week from the time my son was old enough for nursery until he was ... nearly 3? My second son ... until we were called to the nursery, my daughter ... she's barely 2 and just fine when we leave.

But the second son ... he cries when we leave him in primary, but he settles down eventually. And I feel like a bad mom. deep inside, I know I'm not ... entirely. I have things to improve upon, we all do. But ... is it my fault when my 5 year old tics? (It's Tourettes, not those icky creatures that suck blood.). Is it my fault when my son has a meltdown because his seatbelt, or his shoelaces, are crooked? Is it my fault my 3 year old can't talk right?

The answer . . . yes. Half their genes came from me. But, ... no, it's not all poor parenting. Some of it, I've learned, the Lord decided to trust me with children that will never be perfectly normal. It's up to me and my husband to teach them, guide them, lead them, and learn from them. We will do the best we can, and hope they turn out.

We'll do the best we can, and sometimes, trust the Sunbeam teacher to settle down a hysterical child. If he gets too bad, she'll bring him to me.

{Dictionary:

Primary: Sunday school for children

Sunbeam: the youngest class in primary, age 3-4.

Nursery: Sunday school/playtime for children aged 18 months to 3 yrs.

Tic: an involuntary movement: related to tourettes.

Tick: a gross blood sucking creature.

End dictionary: }

The tears.

I got a text from a friend today. She's pregnant, again.

My sister in law called last week, she's having a girl.

My sister had a baby last month.

My other sister in law is having a boy any day now.

2 close friends had theirs in the last few weeks too.

Days like this, I rejoice for those I love, for those I care for.

My womb is empty.

Is it my fault? How can they "accidentally" have a baby?

Why are so many babies abandoned, forgotten.

Why can those who don't care, get pregnant so easily.

While me, and many like me. Can't have another?

I'm luckier than many, I do have children. Before this all started, before the cysts, the cramps, the tears, I was one of them. I tried to be sensitive to those around me who couldn't have children, because I knew it wasn't their fault.

I broke the news gently when I got pregnant, again, because I knew it would hurt after I held them as they cried through miscarriages.

Now it's my turn. How can I be so selfish? Wanting them to care? Wanting them to realize?

My baby, and likely my last, is 2, .... but I feel empty.

There's another baby waiting for me, out there somewhere. He's still in heaven, watching me. Telling me "mommy, hang in there. Someday I'll make it to you." Even if he can't get here the easy way, I feel certain he'll find me someday.

Until then, there is an empty place at the table, an empty place in my heart. My family is not complete. the line, " I'm sure it'll happen someday", doesn't help anymore. Someday isn't coming.

My body painfully spring cleans, monthly, in the hopes someday another little spirit will move in.

Will someday ever come? I force myself to enjoy the present, what I have now, my wonderful babies. Soon I'll have no more kids in diapers, and the "baby" stage of my motherhood, may be over.

Milestones

Many years ago, I read a beautiful story about what it's like to have a special needs child. (If you haven't read it, check here (http://the-callahans.com/susete/poem3.htm ).

I love this story. A mom expects to take kids to sports, dance, things like that. She never expects instead to be scheduling IEP meetings, therapists, and rejoicing when a child does something small. I've been blessed, my children are beautiful and special, but not quite what I expected.

They may not be in wheelchairs, deaf, blind, or anything huge, but it's the little things. Tourettes, OCD, Developmental delays, speech delays, and who knows what else will come up in the years to come.

I expected to be scheduling swim lessons for my oldest about now, not wondering if I can get him a bath without him totally freaking out because I got his hair wet.

I love my kids, and I wouldn't change them for anything. They are perfect, for me. I learn from them daily, and because we landed in Holland, instead of Italy, I appreciate the little things more than I probably would have otherwise.

Today my baby, my 2 year old, did something I haven't seen at this age. Daddy got her ready for bed, and she took off her pajamas by Herself! all by Herself!

I can't help but think, some mothers probably think, "oh, you're heading into a fun stage." But I don't mind, I really don't. My 5 year old just learned how to dress himself in the last 6 months. My 3 year old not only can't dress himself, but he has no idea how to undress himself.

Somehow, my 2 year old, although she originally hung out with the "failure to thrive" and "developmental delay", she's caught herself up, (or close enough), and it's always a shock to hear her give me full sentences.

But I have been rewarded greater than I ever would have expected. My 5 year old gives me these huge hugs and tells me, "you're my favorite mommy ever." My 3 year old has the most infectious smile, and laugh.

So tonight, as I go to sleep, I'm grateful for the little things. My baby undressing herself, my oldest climbing to the top bunk by himself. My 3 year old falling asleep in a bed, (instead of a floor, which is where he prefers). Tonight, I'm happy just being me.

My babies.

I'm in the mood for a family thing. Trust me, my kids don't always look this good. My Grandma, (the kids great grandma), wanted family pictures for Christmas, so this is part of that!

<----- that one is Jacob. He's my oldest. Very Much a leader, but always getting into something. He loves bossing around his siblings, preschool, and getting his way. Woe be unto her who attempts to open her own door when this guy is around. "Girls can't open doors. Daddy said so."

Jacob loves giving hugs, and notices when people look like they've had a bad day.

<-- Then we have Brandon. He talks up a storm, but most people, including his mommy, don't understand him the majority of the time. always happy and cheerful, but he knows his own mind. His talent is making people laugh. He knows he's funny.

Last but certainly not least is Megan, my baby girl. At 2, she talks more than her 3 year old brother, and she has her own mind. She crawls into bed with me at night when she knows daddy is asleep and not likely to put her back in her own bed. She loves books, dolls, and Dora the explorer. Quite the character, she's a little ray of sunshine.

that's my family. Smart little monkeys, sometimes I worry how I'm going to survive their childhood. But ... we've done alright so far!

A true understanding

Today I realized how nice it is to have somebody who truly understands. I was discussing a problem with a friend of mine; my sister-in-law is pregnant, and from the time she was 10 weeks, I've been getting a picture, every week, of her belly. And told when she hurts, when her belly moves. This is her first baby, obviously.

My friend listened, and said, I bet that hurts. That's a little insensitive of her, isn't it?

Yes, it was. But I hadn't realized why the pictures bothered me until my friend mentioned it. I have three beautiful children, but we've been trying for over a year for another one. Deep inside, I feel there is another child for me. And it's time to have that child. Secondary infertility is not like regular infertility. I've been able to get pregnant, 3 times, now I can't. Both types of infertile mothers hurt, neither hurts more, neither hurts less. They hurt different.

I have been trying to get pregnant, and for 8 months, I've been getting a picture, each week, of her belly. And hearing everything about this pregnancy. And it hurts.

My friend understood and talked to me about to it. She has two children, but couldn't get, and stay, pregnant for nearly 2 years. Now she's having to visit a specialist every week, to keep the baby in her stomach where he belongs.

She knows what it's like to have children, and not be able to get pregnant again. To see everybody around you pregnant, and knowing your family isn't complete, and won't be anytime soon.

Will I get pregnant again? Someday. I hope. I feel it's time, it's just ... I haven't.

A confession

I have a grievous confession to make. I am probably the worst mother in the world.

My 2 year old climbs in bed with me and my husband. Not only on bad nights, ... most nights. she starts in her own bed, but by 1 or 2, she's cuddled between me and my husband. By 3 or 4, she has my blankets.

How do I deal with this?

A: I could put her back in her own bed.

B: I could explain to her that mommy's bed is not for toddlers.

C: I could keep an extra blanket at the foot of the bed so I don't freeze when she steals my covers.

So what do I do? Yeah. C. I'm a bad mom. I figure once she's past this ear Infection, (the grossest this I've ever seen, by the way; it looked like she blew her nose in her ear), she'll start sleeping alone again.

Then again, we moved about a month ago, and that is when the bed climbing started. She doesn't even cry for us anymore. She just walks in, climbs in, goes to sleep. No noise, no comment, nothing. (Just turned 2 last week.).

I figure eventually she'll start sleeping in her own bed again, after all, this time is precious. She's so sweet, and doesn't even snore as bad as her daddy does. so for now, yeah, she can stay with me. it's just at night.