Mother's Day

I remember the projects we would make in school for Mother's Day- the handprints that we would morph into flowers, hearts, or some jungle animal. We would make cards where we would guess our mother's age, tell her how much we loved her, and list our favorite things about her.  We'd make a craft or little token to attach to the card, and mothers' faces would beam as they opened our handmade gifts.

Over the years, I came to realize what it really took to be a mother. I knew that they would be the parent to get up in the night when I was sick, and my mother always made my lunches, listened to my worries, and made sure my hair looked nice for picture day (and every day). 

But I didn't understand the REAL scope of being a mother until I actually became one.  I remember waddling into church on the Mother's Day before I had Alex (only a few days before I went in the hospital). I remember being MISERABLE, and knowing this all needed to end soon. I remember my exhusband handing me a gift, but saying something along the lines of "even though you aren't a mother yet..."

I was confused: what the heck was I doing? I guess I was just hanging out in physical agony, waiting to finally be a mom. I surely wasn't up fifteen times a night either in the bathroom or groaning from heartburn... I wasn't waddling down halls physically LIFTING my belly because the pressure was separating my pelvic ligaments. I wasn't seeing spots and having headaches because I was "pretending to be a mom."  That pregnancy earned my Mom status from the very beginning... From the moment I knew I was pregnant, I worried constantly about the well-being of my child. And this hasn't ended, even as he (almost six years-old) sits next to me while I type.

Being a mother is a neat thing: we have a chance to care for, support, and encourage our children in all facets of their lives. Don't get me wrong- I'd like to go to the bathroom in peace or even read a book every now and then. But I wouldn't trade the fact that my children WANT me involved in their life.  I like that I am able to be there for all major moments of their lives.

What makes it hard is that I am a single parent.  It's tough when I am the sole parent, and I am currently running low on energy. I am remembering back to about 1.5 years ago, when I was balancing working and raising two kids.  I remember how Carly was 2.5 years old, and was having a hard time sleeping through the night (ears were causing night SCREAMING). I remember collapsing into my office chair at school in between classes, and wondered if I could fall asleep instantly. I was running on empty, and I wondered how single mothers did it when they didn't even have a support system.  I was grateful that I had my parents around to help me raise the kids, and I felt really bad for those women that are really going it alone.

Now that the kids are 4 and almost-six, I realize they require a lot less energy.  This is good, because I now have a whole lot less energy to give.  I am three weeks into no thyroid hormones, and still have two weeks to go.  I feel like a snail, and snails don't raise human babies! There's a reason!!!  I try to put on a brave face and suck it up, but inside I am DYING.  For example, I want to review my week for a moment (before I start my guilt-trip, which I am entitled to):

On Monday, I worked all day.  Then, I took an end-of-course test to a homebound student, and sat while she took the test (which was untimed).  Afterward, I headed home and got to the house as everyone was eating dinner.  Thankfully, I had a little time to eat, check homework and get kids ready for bed.

On Tuesday, I worked all day as well (including hosting some meetings- prep work for that!). At the end of the work day, I flew out of school and headed to pick up kids, change clothes, get pizzas, and head BACK to school to host an honor society end-of-the-year picnic. I stayed at the school pretty late, then got the kids home in time to give them baths and head to bed.  I crashed without doing any more work at home.

On Wednesday, I worked all day, then headed BACK out to homebound to give another EOC test.  I felt like I was there FOREVER (because it was untimed!). I got home in time to eat with the kids, then did spend a little bit of time with them.  I was grateful to see them, but I was also EXHAUSTED at this point. I wondered how on earth I was supposed to make it through the rest of the week...

On Thursday, I headed to work at 6:55am, and came back home at 9:25pm.  After working all day, I gave the FINAL EOC test, then did drive home quickly to recurl my hair, move laundry, lay out pajamas, and kiss the kids (since I wouldn't see them that night!). I got back in time for the awards banquet, stayed until after 9pm, then headed home to fall asleep as quickly as I could to wake up at 5am and repeat...

Except last night, I spent the entire night sick. Which made Friday morning MISERABLE... And I did make it through today, but BARELY.

I am not listing my schedule to show off anything, or as a guilt-trip on anyone else other than myself.  I am honestly surprised I am capable of such a schedule. I am also wondering what the heck I am thinking?!?

Someone out there is probably wondering "why are you teaching homebound while sick?"  Well, the short answer is "when I have to pay bills, the companies don't care that I am sick, and they really don't care that I am STILL not receiving my full child support..."  So, instead of working abbreviated days (which would be smart with my physical state), I am working OVERTIME.  I know hospital bills will add up, and continue to add up as both children have surgery in July.  So, I take the work as it's offered.

The guilt trip? It's on me. I felt absolutely TERRIBLE I didn't see my kids much this week. I know this is not a normal week, but I also felt like I missed a lot of important things. It's hard enough when there's only one parent- it's pretty bad when the one parent is trying to see them at least once a day.  On Thursday, I was asking my boss how long he thought the awards dinner would last.  He told me, and I said "that's fine- I just wanted to know if I should tell my mom I won't be able to tuck the kids in." He made a sad face at that response, and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. It really sucks to do this alone sometimes...

It feels a bit different in light of the cancer, and all that's come along with it. Whereas I would normally feel exhausted, and try to keep positive about the fact that one day they will grow up and leave and I will miss them... Now, I feel a bit guilty, because I know they will have normal days, and no matter how I feel I try so hard to appreciate them, to leave them with good experiences, and to make everything ok, because heaven forbid something happens- I wouldn't want them remembering when I lost my temper!!  Balancing all of this has really just left me drained...

The truth is, I love my children more than anything.  They are the whole reason I am keeping on.  Honestly, after all that's happened, I would have thrown in the towel long ago.  They keep me going, because if nothing else- I need to make money to take care of them! But it's not just that- I know I want to show them that there are low points in life, and that we just need to push on until we get out of those spots. And right now, I am trying my best to show them a good example.  If I didn't have to be an example, I'd happily pull the covers over my head and try again tomorrow.

I remember the Mother's Day after Carly was born.  I had spent five days in the hospital following Carly's birth.  After spending a night at home, we packed up the goods, and I went to stay with my parents (along with Alex) for a few days.  I stayed there for a little bit, and moved back to the apartment in time to spend Mother's Day with my ex's family.  Carly's pregnancy brought serious complications as well, and I was still trying to recover (along with parenting a two year-old, and doing a lot of this by myself). I was grateful for my mother, who was trying to continue working while getting up with the baby through the night while I stayed with her.  And my sister-in-law Alli would come over and help with the little ones so I could try to nap.

So, when Mother's Day rolled around, I remember riding with Chris to go visit his family.  He stopped to get gifts for the mothers in the family. He pulled out two giant vases of roses for his mother and grandmother.  He handed me a small vase of tulips- because I didn't like roses... I was beginning to see a trend about his opinion of what I was actually doing here...

And maybe that's where my confusion about Mother's Day comes about. I am not playing the blame game, but I believe anyone would start to wonder when things like this kept coming up. I know it's not about recognition from a spouse or other adults, but that is KINDA the deal. Especially when this woman is the REASON for the children.

And this is why I am so thankful my children are at an age where they tell me every day that they love me.  I know they do love me, but there is something about hearing those affirming words- and saying them as well. They are good for the soul, and make every day feel like Mother's Day.  Even when I am out of energy. Even when I feel guilty about balancing work, school, daily obligations, and family. Even when I wonder what the future holds.  Even when I wonder how much fight I have left to give- they are there to whisper "I love you's" in the night.

And that will forever be the greatest gift I could ever receive- Mother's Day, and every day.