It's so hard to believe my beautifuls are 7 months old today. Where'd it go, these 7 months? For the first few months, 4 or 5'ish, or so, it felt like what it was. It wasn't too fast, it wasn't too slow. It just was. But around about 5'ish or so, months, that is, it picked up pace and now, at this point, I just don't know where it went. I can't possibly have been a mommy for 7 months. I still know nothing. Lol...I'm always gonna know nothing, though. That I know.
My beautifuls are amazing. They wake up happy every morning and it just goes from there. Their happiness is contagious.
It's pretty awesome being mom to these guys. They are so totally different and yet so very much on the same page. There are funny things, like they are getting ready to crawl and scooching has commenced. One scooches by arching and extending, like an inch worm. The other scooches by getting his feet and knees under him and pushing along. They are equally as mobile yet go about it in different ways. As my hubby says, it's neat to watch them developing in so very different ways, it reminds us that they are unique individuals - which we never doubted anyway.
But along with those differences are temperamental differences, too. And they both have wonderful temperaments. Very easy going and laid back. One is more curious and even mischievous. The other is a sneaky devil - acts all innocent and pure but is really probably more mischievous than his mischievous brother. My sweet little innocent one, at least innocent acting one, is the mommy's boy. His face lights up like nothing I've ever seen before just by a little smile in his direction by little ol me. He is my sweetie! When his face lights up like that, this adorable little smile breaks out and it's just precious. And what's more endearing - he can't stop himself. He wears his heart on his sleeve for me. The other is my playful one. He could care less about me at times but he lights up in that same manner for Daddy. And that's absolutely priceless to watch! I would have it no other way.
People always try to say A is like this and 1 is like that. As soon as you say that...they flip it up on us. They won't be put into neat little categories and the competition is already alive and well.
Anywho, even though this is titled "7 months" and I've now spent multiple paragraphs bragging on my beautifuls, this isn't about them.
It's about me.
In 7 months, I've learned a new me. I'm pretty pathetic. I always knew that. I still think it.
This is so weird to write and it's pretty raw, so sorry for it being so all over the place. I'll start by saying my husby thinks I'm amazing. He thinks I'm an amazing mom, an amazing wife, even an amazing person. I think he's wrong. Luckily, he's stuck with me as a wife. I get to remind him of that frequently. A friend posted a picture on Facebook that I thought was perfect and I actually got to use the saying on Fred last night. He claimed I was nuts (true). I said "who's nuts here? Me? Or you for marrying me?" I joke with him about being stuck, about me being nuts, etc, but I think it's hard to keep up with/take care of me. I need something a lot of the time, it seems. He seems happy to give it, but to me, it seems like it would be a job. I guess you know when you've got the right person because what seems a job to me, he claims isn't for him. It's a passion for him. And I'd hope he'd be passionate about me.
It's just so weird. Having him so duped. I'm not amazing. I'm far from it. I can think of so many ways in which I could be a better wife. But beyond that, it's the mommyhood thing I'm realizing I'm doing craptastically.
Who you are in the face of grief and/or hardship is who you are. If you are a rock in hard times, then you are a rock. Hard times, by my definition accounts for a gazillion different situations and I'm not going to spell it all out here. But let's just say me and my health of late qualifies as a hard time. And I suck.
To me, a good mom is a mom through and through. Like my mom. She is my benchmark. She could be a good mom with her hands tied and her eyes blinded. It was who she was. No matter what was happening in life, taking care of me was first and foremost on her mind. If she didn't feel good - she was still a mom first. She found the energy to get me cared for.
I am not/have not been doing that.
Tuesday, for example, I woke up with a migraine. Hell, went to bed Monday night with a migraine. Still there Tuesday. I could not and did not get up with the boys Tuesday morning when they declared it was eating time. Husby got it and that was good enough for me.
Damn "Gina"! I suck!
Ok, so maybe I can cut myself some slack following a surgery or two. Yeah, I had care in place so that the boys were cared for. But still...yep, you guessed it...I suck.
If you wanted to give me a motherhood compliment that I'd take to heart, you'd tell me I'm taking after my mom.
Sad thing is, you can't say that - and if you tried, I'd tell you yer liein, and I'd be right.
Some might say babyhood is rough and twins are rough and doing twin babies while battling craptastic health is just rough and to cut myself some slack. See...moms don't get slack. That's not how it works. Moms that take slack...not like my mom. My mom didn't have an amazing father/husband to fall back on. She didn't have a helpful set of grandparents to call in a pinch. She was it.
And I guess I'm in a similar boat to a degree. I DO have an amazing husband/father to fall back on. But not helpful grandparents that are nearby. Helpful grandparents, yes, nearby, no.
My benchmark...I'm falling drastically short of. I suck. I don't think it's enough that I know what to do when X happens. I don't think I'm enough. I think my boys need more. And I'm not it. And if I'm sucking at 7 months, damn but 10 years is gonna be rough.
But then I tell myself, watch out for self-fulfilling prophecies, Lori. If I expect to suck, then I will. If I expect to succeed, then I will.
So I have to act like it's all good, like I've got this, like I'm not struggling or flailing. Like I don't miss my mommy every day and like it's all good that I have absolutely no one to call on for experience, wisdom and guidance. I have to act like a pro when I'm anything but.
And this, my dears, is where I'm hurting.
This is why I'm writing the raw. So that I can get to the heart of it. There it was.
Yep, it's not that I suck. I don't suck anymore or less than the next guy (mom).
I miss my Mommy.
It never stops. Ever. She's been gone for 8 years now. Anniversary of her death was 9 days ago. And. It. Never. Stops. I miss her as much as the day she died. I mourn daily for what she lost. I mourn daily for what I lost. I now mourn for what my husband never got to know. And for the grandma my kids *should* know.
I want to call my mom and ask what I can do for situation X. And I can't.
I want to pick up my mom from the airport and have her take care of me. And I can't.
I want to watch my mom play with my babies. And I can't.
I want to see my mom and my husband be the friends I know they'd be. And I can't.
I want to know why God thinks I can handle this life without my Mommy. Because I can't.
One of the hardest things is I want to tell my babies every day that they can keep me forever because we should all get to keep our mommies. But I can't. I can't guarantee them that I'll live until tomorrow or until 55 (her age when she died) or 86 (my grandmother now). I can't guarantee my beautiful A that the Mommy that makes his face light up will always be there. And. It. Scares. Me. To. Death. To think that God might take me away from these beautifuls before they are done with me. I want them to never hurt. I want them to always have their needs and desires fulfilled. If they want me to live forever then I want to do that for them. But I can't guarantee that and that kills me.
I've now spent nearly a quarter of my life without my mom. I'm 36. I shouldn't be anywhere near being able to make that statement.
I never thought becoming a Mom would make me question my mortality. But somehow, because God took my Mom from me, it makes me wonder how long these boys get to keep theirs. And knowing what it feels like to be Mommie-less, I just hate that. I hate the idea of anyone being Mommie-less because it sucks big green donkey balls. It sucks to royal high heaven and beyond. It's the worst thing I've ever endured and it will never end for me. And it's so weird. It's so very weird to be so scared of being a mom because I'm afraid of what it will do to the boys when they lose me because losing a mom sucks.
And that's what I've learned in 7 months.
(Don't tell me I don't (or do) suck. I don't (or do) suck as much as the next guy/gal/thing. That's not what this was about.)
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Ah raw indeed. Now you sound like me...questioning your worth and abilities as a mom. For the record - you don't suck. I'm not sure you could suck at being a mother even if you outright tried to. I know she's there and the fact is that it sucks that even though she's there you can't touch her or talk to her. I hate that. But I also know that in those moments when you are mothering - without thinking about it - just doing what comes naturally - that her hands and her heart are guiding you. Apparently her role was not to be within arm's reach of you for your lifetime...God had other plans BUT missing her and not having guidance from her that you can visibly see doesn't make you suck and my God -if she heard you say that - I think she'd be pissed. She prob read it and is pissed. Because she knows - in her quietest moments and at the core of you - is a mother who loves her children and honestly Lori - what else does a child need? Well, that and diapers. Fred is right. It's about time you start believing him. Part of honoring and loving our husbands is believing they'd never lie to us....xoxo
ReplyDelete"I never thought becoming a Mom would make me question my mortality."
ReplyDeleteThe very same thing happened to me. I had never had those types of thoughts until after my son was born.
I think a lot of it has to do with the hormones and the other part is how very vulnerable we are after having children. I have heard it said that having a baby is like wearing your heart on the outside. Be very gentle on your self. I like to think that God smiles just like your child does when he sees you.