Nick, on average, works about 75 hour weeks. He only gets paid for 40, so it's a little frustrating. The last two weeks have been...well H-E-Double Hockey Sticks rings a bell in my mind for accuracy. He gets up at 5 and isn't home till after 10. I feel like when we first moved here when he would get up at 430 and be home after 11 or 12am. That was worse, but this is really awful because he isn't being paid for it. Otherwise I wouldn't be whining. Sorry. Anyway...
This weekend, he had a brother graduate from law school in Texas. We decided to send Nick because, hey, let's show support to a brother and because Nick needed a break. A big one. So he left on Friday.
I've never been a great mom. I try. I read books, I listen to advice, and ask for it. But really, I'm hard on my kids in ways I shouldn't be (ie, Claire had to vacuum the car 6 times in a row because she didn't do a good enough job. While I think it teaches her a lot, I'm sure there other ways to do it. I do look for those things, but until I find the right method, I've made mistakes like this one. And I feel like I've tried everything). I expect too much of them often. But I'd rather expect too much than too little, honestly, so if I change something, it better be worth the effort and actually be effective. Repetition is probably the best teacher I know and I wield that as a mom.
I tell you these things to complete my story.
Also, it has taken a lot to get to the point that I don't yell. I'm not perfect at that either! But yelling is a once in a while occurrence (once a week/month instead of hourly). When Nick isn't around at all to take some parental pressure off, the yelling increases. I feel horrible after it happens and then I'm good for a few days until it builds again.
This morning, we had a great morning. Claire asked about grandparents, so we did a genealogy chart to show how grandparents work. We had chocolate chip pancakes, eggs and grapes. We laughed when Claire and Matthew went outside after just having showered and readied for church and then proceeded to dump buckets of rain water on each other (totally used to yell at that). We spoke to Nick on Skype and laughed and laughed. Then...the dreaded rush to get out the door on time for church. I TRY to leave 20 minutes early. So we can walk and so I can feel ready for sitting there for a long time. Well, 25 minutes before church, I'm giving the kiddos directions about shoes and teeth and potty when I walk down the stairs with Zoey. And BAM! I'm falling! I catch myself a bit (with my big toe) and then fall to my doom down the rest of the stairs ( about 3) where my hand is UNDER the spot trying to protect Zoey's head from hitting while trying to dodge landing on my pregnant belly.
I'm yelling and crying. Bruiser has moved the walker (Zoey's) right in the middle of the stairs. So yelling at Bruiser soon starts.
I've broken my toe, Zoey has a bruise on her cheek and I'm shaken and scared I hurt her worse. yelling. At my three year old. Who has no idea what "Don't leave your toys in the middle of the way" means. AGH! And no one to help me or wipe my tears, check my Zoey, or my toe. But guess what?
I do have someone. Someones.
Just when you think that you are broken, God tells someone and they help (if they listen).
Claire and Bruiser come running into the room with ointment and band aids (for my bleeding knees, because they can't see anything else that's hurt).
I'm so grateful. How could life be fuller? Seriously. And I had reverted back to Bad Mom. I didn't deserve those sweet blessings.
I have the best kids. Thank you for being so willing to forgive me, kiddos. I love you.
What a bucketful of awesome. I'm so blessed.