My day ended as it began- rocking Elise in her room. In both moments I sat there overcome with motherhood. Elise holding onto my fingers and playing with my ring as I stroke her face and hair and kiss her a hundred times, while simultaneously feeling another baby inside me rolling and pushing underneath her. I loved sitting in that chair, taking in (ever so uncomfortably), the layers of life my body has created.
I guess that's not technically where my day began. I laid awake since the wee hours of the morning with aching legs. Hours after I had been awake, Maisey was the first to emerge. I asked her if she wanted to snuggle me, something she does every morning lately, and she declined. She asked me to get her breakfast instead.
We did breakfast and dishes and chasing and coloring and Mormon messages. It felt like we'd been up and doing things for hours and it when I looked at the clock it was barely nine am.
While Elise was occupied with something I snuck into my room and closed to door to read the new conference Ensign in peace. It worked. For about ten minutes. Then Anabelle came in to show me something she had made. And my cover was blown. They all discovered me and then all suddenly needed me for various things. I asked Anabelle to take Elise out and she coaxed her, one step at a time, with the promise of stickers. It was successful. I was able to finish reading President Uchdorft's talk that I knew Braden was speaking on at church. A little silly maybe, but my intent was to make an effort to have a spiritual connection or discussion or at least have some insight into what he's thinking about today. Because in this business I think every little connection you can make matters.
All the girls came in presenting me with gifts they had colored for me with love notes written on the back.
I get a hold of Braden after not having the chance to have really talked with him for a few days. I knew I was running into my church prep time but I just felt like talking to him. We were a bit rushed to get to church. Elise never did nap- making sacrament meeting a remarkable struggle. She climbed all over my already painful stomach, pouting, crying, mostly just doing circles climbing on me. Becky Littlefield tried to take her but she wouldn't have it. The other girls were mostly goodish. I had been asked to help In Lila's class today. I was struck by her rocking and complete inability to sit still. She was listening and participating- she just couldn't sit completely still. In her class, they have a system where one child spends the whole time passing out little fuzzy balls to the kids who are being reverent. The little girl literally gave one over and over to every other kid besides Lila. She kept walking by her, looking at her, and then handing it to the kid on either side of her, even when Lila was sitting completely still. Lila on a few occasions thought she was getting one and smiled and put her hand out, only to have this little girl hand it over her to the next child. The mama bear rage inside me was growing. It didn't help that my skirt was hurting me, my surgery scar was causing a debilitating amount of pain, and I was hungry. All of a sudden, in the middle of the lesson, I snapped. I had the teacher staring at me with wide eyes, and eleven six year olds totally silent. I said that maybe I needed to take over the fuzz ball system because it was a bit distracting. And it was distracting and ridiculous. But mostly, it was me feeling heartbroken for my little Lila who was doing her very best and kept being passed over. It was me being sensitive over her struggles. I mean really, who snaps at a room full of six years and a diligent teacher doing her best?
The rest of the day was like any other day- the emotion swings back and forth from minute to minute. We're all sitting around laughing at Elise say 'gobble gobble' and the next minute the kids are in trouble for going out front to play with friends. Lila and I are reading books and sight words and playing with flash cards one minute, then the next I am soaping her mouth for screaming and tantruming all through prayers.
I am astounded at all the love and smiles in the same day that we had lots of correction and discipline. Mothering I've decided, is a lot of everything. It is so intensely everything. The range of emotions I feel on any given day where I have been at home mothering all my kids all day is mind blowing.
You really have to appreciate and live in those precious mothering moments, because they are fleeting. And very soon there will be arguing or incessant crying or disobedience. Maybe this is not general information. Maybe this is just my house and other peoples ratios are better than mine. Maybe it's a result of a single Mom or a house full of estrogen. I still don't think it's bad. I just think it's real family life. It's a bunch of little people (and big people for that matter) trying to figure out how to be kind. How to share. How to be considerate. How to be clean. How to be respectful. And it's a learning process. And the more little people you throw into the mix, the more exciting it is. It's absolutely exhausting. And exhilarating. And I'm so grateful for it. There is nothing else I'd rather be doing with my time or my life or my days. In church today a sister was speaking about the Proclamation and she made the simple comment that Satan does a lot of things to make us forget how important family is, while at the same time feeding us the lie that all these other little things in our lives are important. It's not new or profound. But for some reason that struck a cord with me today. My family is of prime importance. Every other endeavor, and the motives that drive them pale in comparison.
As I sat with Elise rocking her, I had the feeling and the thought that if I never do anything else in my life except mother these children I will be happy with that. I sat as she fell asleep in my arms, something that never ever happens. I was loving just sitting listening to her baby snores, when Anabelle came yelling for me twice that it was en emergency. I gently put Elise down and came out to find the emergency of me having forgot to pour some milk in her oatmeal.
Little tiny moments, Julie. Soak them up.
1 comment:
Amen, my friend. I so echo the feeling that the emotional rollercoaster is exhausting! I have nothing to compare the intensity with which you are living, but just my three littles and help from my husband are enough for me to feel like I must have a multiple personality disorder- or at least bi-polar! Like they say, no fun and all joy. here's to more baby snores and less emergencies...
You are amazing!
Post a Comment