This post should be alternately titled "Lindsey's self counseling session." I'm just warnin' ya...
I figured it's been a while since I actually sat down and wrote out how I felt. Which could be a good thing if you don't really like to listen to my ramblings on how I feel like I am going crazy. And indeed it's a bad thing since I tend to work things out in my head and on the blog, and tend to feel better. Perhaps that's why lately I feel as if I might self-implode. A lot of people have asked me how everything is going. Honestly, things are going more smoothly than I ever envisioned them going; Brayden is not jealous of Connor, and besides the instances where B thinks Connor is the same age and can catch a basketball, the boys get along great. Indeed, there are some instances where having two children has been a lot easier than my imagination ever made things out to be.
Then there are those days that are harder. Harder because my baby with reflux has a tummy ache, my toddler with a strong will thinks that he can get into everything without a fight, and to top it off the dog is barking at the pitbulls next door. Yes, it's those days that make me wonder if I am really cut out for this mommy job of mine. Unfortunately it seems as though the days where everyone needs me all at once and I have to play eenie-meenie-miny-mo to see who gets me first... those days come more frequently than the days that make me think that I can do this. I hate it, feeling this way. This way that makes me feel like despite my most valiant efforts, in someone's eyes I am always falling short. If I don't console the screaming babe, he keeps on screaming. If I don't discipline the toddler, he keeps on getting into trouble, endangering himself and those around him. Thankfully the dog can be locked up, but even then sometimes I feel guilty because I forget he's there and only remember when he cries at 6pm. I feel like everyone needs a piece of me, and when all is said and done, I'm not sure there's even enough left of me for me. I'd love to have some "me" time where I don't have to worry about meeting anyone else's needs, where I can sip on my drink without worrying if it's close enough to the ledge for a toddler to pull on top of himself, to not hear the sounds of a crying baby and to sit and read an entire blog without being interrupted 52 times. Or just to be able to sit and eat breakfast, lunch or dinner at the correct time-- seems as though my meals keep getting pushed later and later since I have to make sure everyone else is taken care of first.
Mixed within all of these emotions of being pulled is a deep sense of thankfulness. As most of you know, Connor was not planned. Yet, when I look at him, I can't help but get overwhelmed that for some reason, despite my inadequacies, God chose our family for his little life. It's incredibly overwhelming, and I'd be lying if I told you it doesn't get me a bit choked up when I think about it. I also am grateful that even on his hardest days, our two year old has a gentle heart. Yes, it's wearing having to constantly be on him about things, but like all hard things in life I realize that "this too shall pass." I'm also thankful for a husband who works hard so that I can stay home with my little ones. I honestly can't imagine doing anything else... even though sometimes I may feel like I need to.
So that's where I am. And at 8pm at night, there's hardly a lick of energy in my bones to type up a nice blog post that enlighten you... I'm actually amazed that I even had enough energy during naptime to type this post up. But I need to remember where I am, because on down the road, I want to look back and remember that it does indeed pass quickly, and I did indeed keep my sanity amidst the chaos.
israel; the start. Pre-pandemic
3 years ago