Maybe I'm Just Not Cut Out For This

A few times a month (sometimes more) I reach my breaking point. It is then that I start to seriously question my abilities as a mother, a wife and sometimes even a functioning adult.  Lately there have been a lot of those days.

These are the days where sleep is limited. On these days the Big One and I are at war. Everything is a battle. I lose my cool and then she ends up in tears with dramatic flair that puts most soap opera stars to shame. The Little One doesn't sleep and whines and fusses the majority of the day, and by the time the Captain gets home I am at the end of my rope.

I love my girls, but sometimes I am over the constant whining and crying. I just want nap time to happen peacefully. I want the girls to go to sleep at night without a two hour fight. I do not want to be a jungle gym and have tiny little fingers and toes digging into my flesh. I do not want a tiny little fist pulling out a clump of my hair.  I really don't want to be the Prince or Dora, or Sponge Bob, or Patrick. I don't want to pretend to go jelly fishing, or play grocery shopping or kitchen. I simply want to be left alone for five freaking minutes.

And then I feel guilty.

I remember a time when I so missed being a mother. I remember the tearful nights spent praying for another chance to be a mom. I remember the promise that I would cherish every moment, if I would just be given the opportunity to love and be loved by a child.  Now I have been given that second chance and some days I feel like I am doing it all wrong. After 20 hours of non-stop mothering, I lie in bed and think "Maybe I'm just  cut out for this."

As I lie there listening to the Captain snoring next to me, I wonder how long my marriage will survive the lack of attention it is receiving. How long can I continue to give my husband the minuscule amounts of me that are left after a day with the kids? And where do I fit in? After the girls and the Captain, what is left for me? I am still an individual after being wife and mommy... aren't I?

I did it all wrong the first time. I was young and didn't sacrifice enough of myself for my Firstborn, and then I lost her. So now, I am doing the opposite and in the process losing myself. I can't seem to find the balance and I am left feeling like an inadequate wife and mother. I find myself wondering "What has become of the woman I used to be?" So, as I said before- Maybe I'm just not cut out for this!

What pushes you to your breaking point? How do you deal with it? I'd love for you to share. You can add a little sunshine to my day by voting for me on Top Mommy Blogs! Thanks

The Little Things

My husband is the captain of a local charter boat (the reason I call him The Captain) and before children, I would go out with him every chance I got. I miss it. It really is an awesome time. I love being out on the water and seeing the dolphins play behind the boat. The dolphins are definitely my favorite part of the trip.

Pics I took the last time out on the boat

Another part of the trip I loved was meeting the different people. Watching the amazement on the faces of strangers who are seeing dolphins jumping in the wild for the first time is something I could never tire of. We still reminisce about different people we’ve met and of times spent on the boat.

Now that we have kids, I can’t just throw on my suit (not that I would be caught dead in a bathing suit right now) pack a beach bag and head to the marina for a day of fun in the sun. So the hubby indulges me and tells me about the people on the boat. Today he came home with the usual tales, but one in particular has stayed with me all evening.

One of the customers proposed to his girlfriend today. They stopped the boat, he got down on one knee and asked the woman he loves to spend the rest of her life with him. Now every romantic at heart reading this is right now thinking “Awwwww….”

And I too, thought that initially. But then I was reminded, that technically I am still a newlywed. Here in my household we did things a bit backwards. We got engaged, had The Big One, got pregnant with The Little One and then got married.

Our six month anniversary just passed on the 14^th without so much as a word about it from either of us. And although I wouldn’t change a thing, I suddenly felt a little robbed. We celebrated being married all of about 7 days. We were giddy with the “This is the first time we’re going grocery shopping married” and “This is the first time we are going to church married” stuff for a bit, but then life took over and the novelty wore off.

I can’t help but think that if we didn’t have a child, and if I wasn’t very pregnant with our second, that we maybe would have celebrated the little things more. But when you are spending four hours trying to get your two year old to sleep and barely getting sleep yourself because you have a parasite growing and moving inside you, the little things just don’t seem as important.

I can’t help but think that if we didn’t have children, that if we had done things a bit differently that our six month mark would have been something to celebrate. Don’t get me wrong we have plenty to celebrate. We love each other, we laugh, and we support each other 100%. We have two healthy daughters who learn new things and give us cause to celebrate every day.

I guess it just makes me realize that I need to spend a little more time celebrating the man who loves me, the man who puts up with my daily moods (however challenging they can be), and the man who gave me these two beautiful girls that we celebrate every day.

How often do you let life get in the way of celebrating the little things? It is, after all, the little things missed that we regret later in life.

Our Wedding Day :)

Painful Truths

Children often speak painful truths, their innocent and simple minds unable to comprehend the effect their words have. Words unspoken, but felt by the adults that surround them. Words when said aloud hang in the air, never to be retracted.

Tonight we had one of those moments.

The Big One was telling the Captain that I was not his mom, after being confused by something he said . Something completely unrelated to her tirade. “She is NOT your mom. She is only mine and the Little One’s mom! You don’t have a mom!”

And there it was. The painful truth. A truth that he is reminded of every day. A truth that is realized every time he looks into her little face. I looked over at the Captain and saw his slight grimace from the remark, as if the Big One had slapped him in the face. Immediately my heart ached for him. The lump rose in my throat and my eyes burned with the tears I refused to let fall.

The few second of silence seemed like an eternity. I searched my mind and heart for the words to comfort him, to somehow take away the pain I know he felt at that moment, but my mouth remained still. My voice quiet. I just sat there, looking at him for a long time, tears teetering at the edge of my eyelid, admiring his strength.

Not having experienced loss like his, and never knowing what to say, I can only listen when he needs to talk, hold him when he needs to cry, and love him every second of the day. And since the pain is often too much to bear, I can be his voice. I can be the one to teach our girls about the grandmother who watches them from heaven. I will be the one to tell them that they have a guardian angel who watches over them while they sleep. And when the Captain is wishing that there is a heaven so his mom can one day see the girls, I can gently remind him that there is a heaven. And that she is smiling, proud of the man he has become. She smiles as she watches the son that she raised, grow to be an amazing father. And maybe, just maybe, for a moment anyway, the truth will not be so painful.