y’all I’m at burger fi. i walked outta da house and I’m eating a burger that i didn’t prepare and watching people and it is stone cold marvelous…
the difference between kid #1 and kid #3 is that with mc i felt like i couldn’t leave because i knew everything about her. when she last pooped, what she was going to need in 5 minutes and what she could wait ten minutes to get and her strange tired signs that were not the normal ones you could guess. i felt like i was her translator and that i was holding her world together.
the only problem is that i was not monitoring who would be holding my world together and as she was colic-ridden and refluxy to the max, it made for an extremely on-edge mommy. because matt can sleep through anything, seriously park your car on his face while he is sleeping and he will snore right through that bad boy- he would wake in the morning and ask if she did well last night (smile smile- sounded good to me while i was dreaming i was Jack Bauer). i had been up feeding and rocking and consoling and crying, until that one beautiful night where i felt like i was beginning to crack and i grabbed the monitor and yelled into it, “need some help here!”
it had become too much. looking back on it now, i am surprised that i lasted as long as i did. mc didn’t learn to sleep through the night till she was 11 months old and yes, i read that book and yes, i tried that method and it just didn’t work for our little screamy cherub.
if it happened today with this child it would not be easier, but i would have these tools in my belt…
1) the knowledge that it doesn’t do anybody any good if i perish. if i give till i drop there is no girl scout badge for that, and in the end the result is the same. i drop. this knowledge allows me to skip the part where i resent that people are not giving me the credit i deserve for being so sacrificial because, well, nobody asked me to give till i bled.
2) the peace that comes with the knowledge that life happens in seasons. this is no “this too shall pass” line that used to drive me crazy when people applied it to what i considered my heartbreaking circumstances. this is the simple realization that comes with living a few more years. it may be difficult. it may be paralyzing. it may be so dark that you cannot see your hand in front of you. but it is not forever. survive the tough seasons, don’t aim to thrive, aim to survive and to make it to the next season. sometimes that itself is shooting for the stars.
3) find something. this sucks, this hardship that is demanding your all and is hurting your heart, but it doesn’t all suck. find the thing that doesn’t suck. consider it the most intense game of where’s waldo you’ve ever played. with each new day search for it- find the thing that doesn’t make you cringe. when i was going through a particularly icky season my mom gave me a calendar and told me to write 5 things i was thankful for before i went to bed each night. she was pulling me from the depths and turning my eyes toward the light. not in a way that made my pupils freak out and my head hurt, but in a kind way that soothes and reminds that all is not lost. there will be many times where much is lost. a heartbreaking amount. but not all. find waldo and hold his hand till he hides again in the new day you’ve been given.
What’s in your tool belt?