I have known Tara for a while now, and I know she would appreciate me sharing her introduction in her own words, “I am an imperfect pastor’s wife and an imperfect stay at home mom to my three fabulous kids. I blog to keep my sanity and to remind myself that there really ARE other people like me out there!” I enjoy her simple and honest way of writing and talking to her readers and I think you will too. You can find Tara at her blog, Tara’s View of the World.
I Will Stand Strong
I think there is a definite possibility that my kids are conspiring together to make me lose my mind.
You may think I am kidding. But I have SEEN the LOOK in their eyes … the one that says “how much do ya wanna bet that I can push mom right over the edge?”. I know that it may SEEM like innocent banter between children but I suspect they are talking in some sort of code only kids can understand about ways to destroy my sanity. I just know it.
My daughter, Olivia, is 20 months old. Her main contribution to the “make mommy lose it completely campaign” is to keep me utterly exhausted. She adheres to a strict regime of nightly wake-up times in 2 hour intervals and only takes daytime naps when other children are available to keep me busy. She is also determined to nurse until she enters college.
She tries to throw me off by smiling the most beautiful dimpled smile and calling me “mama” in the sweetest voice I have ever heard… but I can’t be fooled. I have taken hundreds of pictures which I plan to use to teach HER daughter these subversive techniques. Someday when she says to me “Mom, I am SO tired! This baby just will NOT sleep!” I will pat her on the back and laugh hysterically and say things like “oh this SO serves you right!!!!”. Ok, I might just say it in my head but it will feel so good to know there is justice in this world.
My middle child Owen is 4, almost 5, years old. His main job is to whine. A lot. He has learned to use phrases such as “I can’t help it” and “it wasn’t my fault” and “but I have a tummy ache (my head hurts, my leg hurts, I have to go pee)” to avoid responsibility for his actions. He has also become the jedi-master of stubbornness.
He has, at times, almost convinced me of his innocence with his incredibly beautiful innocent looking eyes. When he can tell I’ve started to catch on to his evil plan he throws me off by looking me in the eye and saying “Mommy, I wuv you” and handing me a hand picked dandelion from our yard. This is a very clever tactic on his part since I seem to be unable to withstand his charm and am lulled into a false sense of security which is, once again, abruptly shattered when I see the pile of peed upon bedding on my laundry room floor.
My oldest son Aiden is six and definitely the ring leader in the “mama’s goin’ down” posse. He is mainly trying to accomplish this task through the brilliant tactic of freaking out hundreds of times per day and peeing BESIDE the toilet instead of IN the toilet.
Aiden is clever though and uses his incredible creativity to hide his subversive efforts. He builds intricate lego war machines and gives them to me with hand drawn cards. I know, the war machines SHOULD be a dead giveaway to the reality of “Operation Crazy Mom” but the cards throw me off every time! How can I resist “I heart Mom” in his precious hand writing?
The school system, health care system and mental health people have all joined the fight to strip me of my sanity. You see they PRETEND that they are trying to HELP us. But don’t be taken in!! Their tactics include telling me opposing views of what is “wrong” with my son. The school system says he has ADHD. The health care system tells me he has Sensory Integration Disorder. The mental health people tell me he has Asperger’s Syndrome. And just to wear me down a little more they have all joined forces together to create the longest wait time possible to get an official diagnosis.
Occasionally I think my husband may be in on the whole scam too, like when he leaves a trail of dirty laundry from the bathroom to his side of the bed. And sometimes I think he and the kids are secretly working together to destroy my home. They mess up the house as soon as I am finished cleaning it, throw food on the floor when I’m not looking, place crushed cheerios and sharp pieces of lego under my feet, and store dirty dishes in odd locations to assault my delicate sense of smell.
But then I take one look at the exhaustion emanating from my husband’s face and realize that he is, in fact, a victim of the tyrannical kid posse too.
And although the constant bickering and whining and yelling sentences that start with the word “mooommmm” threaten to send me right over the edge, I just remind myself that I AM thankful for these amazing gifts from God. Surely they have been sent to transform me into the very picture of graceful, patient, loving, and kind motherhood.
But on the off chance that doesn’t happen right away, I’ll just keep telling myself that if I can survive birthing 3 children, 4 miscarriages and 6 years of post partum depression, I can certainly prevail against the scheming little people.
I will stand strong. I am Mom.
~Written by Tara of Tara’s View of the World.
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This column is Hosted by Shera. She can be found at A Frog In My Soup