Ground Zero

I stopped blogging because I thought I just didn't have enough time for it.  I'd get behind and that would overwhelm me and so I wouldn't blog even if I had time.  Instagram seemed like a much better way to document our lives and with the ease of automatically getting books printed, it really was better. But today I've hit a low. I'm talking crying while doing the dishes, can't catch my breath crying, low.  After I calmed down a bit, I was able to tell Jacob exactly the reason for my crying.  He knew the big reason; it's HARD being a mom to 7 young boys.  But it was more than that tonight.  I had been yelled at all day, either because I was making my innocent sons clean up the floor AGAIN! (for the second time the whole day), because I needed to look at Max eat each bite of his Mac and Cheese, or watch Ryan stick the fork in his mouth, or watch Christopher climb up the stairs on the hand rail (something I've asked him not to do), because Max was standing on a toy and fell off and bumped Thomas down, because I took something from Spencer and now he feels like he needs to scream at me for the next 10 minutes to get back at me, because their brother is talking to me but what they have to say is more important, or because someone hurt someone so badly they needed to scream bloody murder. And that's just what I can think of from today, off the top of my head.

But it's not just my kids tearing me down emotionally, I'm adding to the mix as well.  I've had a hard time getting a voice out of my head saying I'm not good enough.  My house is not clean enough, my children aren't clean enough, my children are too loud, too messy, too rude, and selfish. I'm doing a lousy job at this mom thing.  But to add to it today, I saw family pictures that were taken for the Morrise side.  They really are great pictures, and I love our individual family's one, the boys are so adorable.  But the first thing I thought of when I saw me was, "My gosh you've gotten fat." My face is bigger than I'd like, and although I look at myself each day it's nothing like looking at much anticipated family photos to realize this.  And all day I've been battling myself on my self image. And while I'm crying Steven comes up to tell me that his brothers are doing the exact opposite of what they need to be doing.  In my tearful state I say, "Go talk to your dad. I'm done being mom." Which started a whole new slew of tears. Yes, I need a break from being mom at night, but I don't ever want my boys to think I want to stop being THEIR mom. Hence the new low, but no more.

Starting now, I'm going to blog or journal more at night.  I've always said I'm just too tired at night so all I can do it lie down, scroll through facebook and watch a show or two with Jacob. But I'm going to force myself to write down my feeling from the day. Remind myself that I am a human being who's trying her best to do what she was meant to do. And even if it feels like I'm failing, hopefully I'll be able to see moments when I wasn't.

As I've been beating myself down lately a realization came to me, I'm raising 7 (almost 8) boys who will turn into young men who will turn into men. No wonder Satan wants for me to get discouraged and shrink from my job, he KNOWS what a powerful impact these boys will have for good.  If he can get me to get stuck in my head and form small cracks in the foundation I'm trying to lay every single day, there might be a chance for him to get to these boys. And nothing brings out my momma bear instinct than to think of my children struggling in any aspect of their life. I just wish that feeling would last and be that strong all day every day. But the truth is I forget. I get tired, frustration, lose patience, lose my cool.  But I'm hoping that with writing down my feelings and impressions I get throughout the day, hopefully slowly but surely I'll be able to resist those feelings more. I can enjoy the little and big moments of each of my children every day. I can let my boys see there is joy in parenthood, and that there is nothing I'd rather be doing with my life than to raise them.
-side note: When Steven came upstairs to get his blanket and said that he loved me, I asked if he knew that I loved being his mom. He said, "No. I know you love me. But I don't know that you love being my mom." Tears swell up again as I tell him how much I love being his mom even if it's hard sometimes and it's hard for me to show it. Really something for me to work on.

Jacob had his tonsils removed a week ago tomorrow and man has it been a hard week. Neither of us were expecting it to be this hard. It's been SO painful for him (he's spent most of the last 6 days in bed) and it's been emotionally hard for me to try and make him as comfortable as I can and also try to care for our boys, but keep them quiet so they don't bother dad. And to just physically do everything myself, no help with the chores or putting the kids to bed, the little things I've been taking for granted that Jacob helped with.  So here's to tomorrow. A new start. A chance for me to be better, stronger, and more committed to being the best mom I can be.