There are varying opinions on which number of kids is the hardest. A lot of surveys have indicated that three is the hardest, but I have heard from mothers who have struggled with other numbers. It obviously depends on your life circumstances and your children's temperaments.
I struggled so much when I had just one kid.
I don't care what anyone says. Having one kid was hard! If it wasn't hard for you, count your blessings. For me, I had to learn to work in an environment without praise. I had always done well at school and at work and had been complimented and rewarded for my efforts. Then suddenly I was a stay-at-home-mom, and my infant certainly wasn't giving me positive feedback. I quickly discovered that I was not a natural nurturer. I had a hard time taking care of another human being. I didn't have the skills, and in many ways, I didn't even have the desire.
Before having kids, I never once thought that I wouldn't be a fantastic mother. I never thought it would be hard. I thought I had some special gift or something, and that I would just be a good mother. I didn't know I needed skills. I didn't know that I would feel lost and not know what to do at times.
Somehow, things got better, and I feel like I did a decent job as a mother of two. I didn't struggle as much with two, but things started getting a little more challenging when I was pregnant with Zoe. That was about the time Daisy began to be difficult (she was in the 2-3 age range). Daisy became extremely defiant right as I hit that magical number of three.
I like to say that having three kids broke me. It was so hard. I don't even have the words to explain how or why it was hard, but I really, truly struggled. I didn't think I'd ever feel like I could handle a fourth, but I knew that there would be a fourth, so I lived in constant fear of the timing of my fourth child.
Then one day, I suddenly felt peaceful about having a fourth. It literally happened over night. Of course, that was also the time I started feeling like it was time to go back to school, so I spent a lot of time discussing this with God.
"Help me out here. Am I supposed to have a baby or go back to school?"
Well, God works in mysterious ways because He wanted me to do both.
When I was pregnant with Eva, I made the decision that three was going to be my hard number. I wasn't going to let four be hard. This became a bit of a prideful issue for me. I was going to rock at having four kids, and I was going to do it while going to school.
I had Eva in April, and for a while, it didn't feel much harder than three. I was pleased.
But now Eva is seven months old, and I feel like I'm sinking. Jim Gaffigan was spot on. "Imagine you're drowning, and someone hands you a baby."
That's exactly where I am right now.
I'm struggling.
I have a baby and a toddler, which is always a toxic combination. I have three kids in diapers (two in full-time diapers and one in night-time diapers). I have one kid in all-day school, one kid in half-day school, and one kid in special ed. preschool.
I am a a taxi driver. No one gets the naps they need because the second they fall asleep, I have to load them in the car to go pick someone up. Therefore, everyone is cranky all the time. My kids fight constantly, and there's always at least one of them crying.
My house is always messy. I don't mean "untidy." I mean downright messy! I have laundry stacked against the walls. The floor is covered in toys and food. If we had to vacate our house in the middle of the night, we'd be in big trouble (even though I clear a path every night just in case). If there is any time during the day when Eva isn't crying to be held, I have to use that time for homework, not housework.
I feel like I constantly have to choose between my children. One of them needs a diaper change, one of them is rolling toward the stairs, one of them has a comb stuck in her hair, and one of them has a bloody nose. Who needs me the most?
This morning I had this moment where Daisy was at the kitchen table hovering over an empty potato salad container because she kept saying she felt like she was going to throw up, I was sitting on the living room floor changing a blow out diaper which I thought was only a wet diaper, Nicky was running around the house looking for a package of wipes (because we can't seem to keep track of a single package of wipes even though we purchase them in bulk and have ten packages laying around), the oven timer was going off because our baked pancakes were done, and I could hear the distinct sizzle of the eggs burning on the stove. I was holding Eva's legs in the air so she wouldn't spread the mess further, and I thought, "I'm stuck... again."
I have that feeling constantly: I'm stuck.
I am trying so hard to do everything right and keep up the juggling act, but I'm always stuck. I have at least one emotional breakdown every day. I'm not in a good place.
This stuff is hard, and even though I've gone from one kid to four kids, I haven't gotten better at it. I'm still struggling with not knowing if I'm doing a good job. I still lack the ability and desire to nurture. None of it comes naturally for me. I still feel lost and don't know what to do most of the time.
I may have decided that having four kids wasn't going to be hard, but that wasn't really something I got to choose.
It's hard.
Every day it's hard.
Tuesday, November 24, 2015
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3 comments:
Amen!
You are not alone!
Hugs and hair pats.
xox
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