We moved into our new place without putting the locks back on the toilet seats. “Pierce is older now. We will not need them.” I thought.
Very. Bad. Thinking.
I found my son standing over the toilet, his mouth sucking on a twisty straw which he had been dipping in the toilet water.
What was I supposed to do with this?? I was clueless. I washed his hands, and tried splashing a little water in his mouth. Because we all know water splashing takes the germs away!
And so seems to go my mom life. I try, but I fail, over and over again. . .
I woke up with these huge ambitions of all we were going to accomplish this day. It is now nap time and so far the only productive thing we have managed is getting dressed. Well, dressed for a little while. Both kids seemed to have somehow become topless since then. The mess is piling higher, the disaster larger–at least the locks are once again on the toilets.
We have accomplished seemingly nothing. I hang my head in failure once again. Where did I go wrong? At what point did I end up that woman I swore I would never be? That mom with the half naked heathens. That woman who seems to never be able to fully screw her head on when it comes to motherhood.
My head hangs lower and I begin to cry. I need to try harder, to be more disciplined, more structured. I somehow need to find more energy. This coffee isn’t cutting it anymore. I am tired. I am spent. I am a failure and the day is only half through. The tears begin to flow faster.
Then, I stop to look around.
I see the pieces of the play doctor kit scattered across the floor. The kit we have used all morning. My arms can almost feel the burn of the fifty million shots they have received.
I see the favorite books. The ones now covered with crayon markings and old stickers. The ones I can quote verbatim from reading so many times. The ones I later heard big sister “reading” to her brother.
I look down at my leggings and discover a small hole in the knee from so many games of chase, me always the lion.
The kitchen, filled with dirty dishes and spilled plates, it still lingers with the sounds of silly laughter and games.
The dirty laundry, piled like Everest, carries the stains and messes of adventure and discovery, of happiness–so much happiness.
It is nap time and I am much too exhausted to tackle any of this disaster at the moment. Instead I stare. I smile. Now my head begins to lift again, for I see how beautiful of a mess it is. How much we have accomplished this day.
We have learned. We have loved. We have lived. We have not drunk any more toilet water.
I’m right there with you mom! We try; we fail. But maybe sometimes our failures are not as big as we think. Maybe we are actually doing a pretty good job at this whole mom thing. Maybe, in the middle of all the chaos, there is something beautiful being formed in those little rascals.
Keep trying mom. I bet you are doing a much better job than you think.