Smothered to Loneliness

I had decided before I started typing that this entry would be about loneliness and it took me some time to put to words how someone who has next to no time alone can be lonely. I suppose there are many forms of loneliness. Some are lonely, missing someone specific while others are lonely only because they were alone from the start. I think there may be a grey area combining the two. Then there is me....lonely while surrounded in people that seemingly have no idea who you are, or the perception they have isn't the one you meant to portray. Lonely because all of your thoughts are longer than anyone wants to listen. Lonely because the people that are willing to hear you are just out of reach until life can change enough to bring them back. Children have a funny way of filling your heart with love you didn't know you could have while draining the emotions you used to think you needed. I'm fairly trapped these days, regardless of what many other moms or parenting advice columns may say. I leave only when I have to in fear of what I describe to my husband as "the horror" that occurs during most outings. My friend choices can no longer be made by my own heart and mind but by a checklist of characteristics I find suitable to be around my children and a checklist of how much this friend can put up with from the monsters. There is a void there where freedom used to live, but also a feeling of pride and "challenge accepted". There are plenty of you that have made it through the screening process I call my life, I only wish now that you are accepted that I had the time or energy to reach out to you. Daily life is a series of loud noises, sudden distractions, messes, destruction and occasional adorable acts to make up for the previously listed events. Throughout this my mind is functioning at about 40% while my physical reflexes make up for the other 60%. After the 23rd time the bowl of crackers goes toppling off the table I can practically fly through the air in slow motion like something out of the matrix and catch the bowl without even realizing I did it. However I have trouble matching my socks or remembering if Im wearing makeup when I rub my eyes. The day ends. Brain function has dwindled to about 20% and the man I married is left with an empty shell of what used to be his wife. I can barely smile, I've either given up completely on the sofa or am running on "clean the house autopilot". I miss being more for him, I miss having time to be in love like teenagers, I miss us. To be honest, when I say I'm lonely its because I'm missing that one person nobody should ever lose. I miss me.

Good Enough but not Better

In comparison to every other mother I know I sometimes really wonder what my life looks like. Do they all wake up ready to shoot laser beams at whatever or whoever is forcing them to wake up regardless of what time it is? Does the sound of their child's voice asking the same question for the 20th time make them grind their teeth to keep from running out the door screaming " I QUIT"? But most importantly do they find themselves thinking "What is the point in all of this??". The daily expectation of a stay at home parent, or even the part time working parent seems unattainable. Nobody can do it to the successful standard of the world, and if you tell me you do I will call you a liar. The tiniest inconvenience or deviance to a preset plan can set the whole day on fire. I subscribe to Better Homes and Gardens (because my little sister was selling it for a fundraiser) and I have to tell you it all looks nice but what we REALLY  need is a "Normal Homes and Yards". Something to look through that makes you realize your cruddy, messy house that has been taken over by your children is average. It's normal, its expected, and quite frankly it makes the rest of us take a big sigh of relief when we walk in. Every day I wake up and lay around for maybe an hour dreading all of tasks that "have" to be done. The dishes, the laundry, the dusting, the vacuuming, paying the bills, preparing a dinner, clean the litter boxes, take out the dog, try to keep the toys somewhat organized so they dont all get lost and broken. That list goes on, mutating and multiplying by the day. The point is where is the part where I play with my kids, teach them things, show them what life SHOULD be about? Well to be honest its not there, at least not enough of it. I keep them alive, feed them, teach them the basics that I can fit in and make sure they dont kill each other. But really... where is the happy medium? Because I dont live in better homes and gardens. Despite the endless list of things I do and need to do my house, garden,  children, meal plan and general life will never be perfect. And neither will yours. I think the answer lies within. Something about leaving behind the jealousy and accepting your own standard of happiness. As of now I haven't found that peace of mind but I suppose it's something to work towards.

Is There a Book, Blog or Magazine for that?

When I was pregnant for the first time I was 21 years old and my experience with babies and children was limited to my younger sister who I honestly didn't take a huge interest in during her younger years. I would later regret that as she was a very difficult baby and probably could have taught me something about what I had coming to me with my son. When my daughter (now 3 1/2) was born I was the expert. I knew everything that the internet had to offer. I could tell you about nutrition, learning, emotional development, parenting styles, the latest greatest and safest products. I was a veritable encyclopedia of baby knowledge. And hey, that's all well and good if your baby fits the books description. Mine did and at that point I was convinced they all did. I scoffed at parents who said they're children were difficult or different because I just assumed they were doing something wrong or not informed well enough. Yes, I was that mom. Autumn proceeded to potty train like a dream, listen to what she was told and eat all her veggies at dinner.  And then along came Jude. From the start he was lodged in my hip, weighed 10 pounds 5 ounces and had the loudest voice in the hospital. No matter, he would fit the books just like his older sister. So home we went, me a little rusty on all the baby knowledge but confident and armed with Google, Babycenter.com, and the army of  facebook moms who would answer all my questions. It took about 3 weeks before I realized my son is not a google baby. There is no issue of parenting magazine to explain him or his needs and not a single one of you facebook friends has exactly the right answer. While the support has been much appreciated I was still left confused and frustrated. I checked out the biggest book at the library about babies. I looked into methods that I was against and ones that i wasn't.  I was ignoring the only two places that had the answer to raising Jude. The hearts of my husband and myself.  Currently, along side his many other challenging quirks, Jude has been screaming like something out of a horror movie for what seems like and may be hours in the dark hours of the morning. After posting about it and concerning myself with allowing him to sleep in our bed to bring him some comfort I realized that in the end they are all different. Nobody can tell me what the right thing is for Jude....except maybe Jude. I won't be making a new years resolution this year but if I had to make a change I guess that it would be to open my heart a lot more and to encourage others to do the same. Babies and children grow up and leave so fast that I cant see shoving them into a category, a website, a book or a set of rules. I just need to learn that it's not about where they sleep, what they eat or what kind of sippy cup they use. Love is what raises them, and I won't ever need a book to teach me how to love.