Under the Big Top

I'm sure my most recent posts may seem romanticized to some, perhaps an embellishment to others.  Soooooo... Here ya go.

Those posts are the reality of our life here in Left Field.  On my honor.  Well, part of the reality--there's also the circus life aspect to our daily lives. So, you're right, those posts don't always tell the full story, but they do tell the truth. The other side of that truth is, yes, my kids frustrate me.  Sometimes they downright tick me off.  Sometimes I wish they'd go kick rocks.  I've threatened to leave them on the side of the road if they didn't behave in the car.  It's the truth.  Should I be ashamed for saying that out loud?  I'm willing to bet that any mom who says she hasn't felt that way at least once is lying.

But I still love my children, and make sure I tell them that.  I still apologize when I've done wrong.

It's seriously like a 3 ring circus around here, 24/7.  True story--someone posted a tin sign that read, "Insane Asylum" they found in an antique store and I almost tracked it down to hang above my front door.  On the outside.  It's loud, chaotic and constant.  It's dysfunctional and crazy. Someone is pouting, someone is yelling, someone else needs this while I'm up to my eyeballs in that.  I field meltdowns and temper tantrums.  Even our pets get in on the action. At least once a day, one of my friends gets a text that reads, "I'm going to kill them.  Which one I start with is entirely up to them."  I spend the first half hour of each morning begging the Keureg to please warm up faster while listening to Avery chatter away nonstop, picking up last night's conversations we didn't get to finish, repeatedly reminding Noah of his tasks, throwing Froot Loops at Ezra, and waiting for everyone's meds to Please.  Just.  Kick.  In.  Already.  I spend my afternoons arguing with Avery for at least an hour over homework that should take less than 15 minutes.  I spend my early evenings reminding Noah of his tasks and begging him to please do them properly, without complaining.  Again.  There's also more arguing with Avery. I cook dinner with an infant wrapped around my ankle.  I spend some of my days marveling at the tantrums Ezra is learning to perfect. I know the difference in tones my children's toothbrushes make when they don't use toothpaste, as opposed to when they do, which is remarkable, considering I'm partially deaf in one ear.  Last night, I nearly pinned a $20 to Avery's chest, drove him to a bus station and wished him luck.

Instead, I left the room before I actually said something I couldn't take back.

I battle daily pain and fatigue, the temptation to just slog through the routines of life, the need to go potty without an audience and the desire to hit the drive-through rather than cook dinner.  Wanna know the complete truth?  Sometimes I pop a Xanax in the afternoon or evening to make it to bedtime.  What? Don't look at me like over your second glass of wine!

I also know that none of these things make me any different from any other mom, which is why I don't always feel the need to concentrate on them in my writing.  That's just life.  I don't want to dwell on the negative, and some day, I want my kids to read these blog posts, so the less I write about them driving me nuts and write truth into their lives, the better.

In the same breath, I spend my days praying over my kids.  I spend bedtime saying prayers with them as I tuck them in.  I spend my time with them trying to do my best to speak truth to them, even when I really don't want to.  I spend my days playing with the world's happiest baby.  I watch my kids grow, and marvel that they are surviving me as their mom.

At the end of the day, I still love my kids desperately, and I still feel every bit of everything I write in those posts.  When I want to strangle one of them, I hug them and remind them I love them instead. Life here is far from perfect.  It's far from any romanticized version of a fairly tale, but I wouldn't trade one single chaotic hair-raising moment.  But we do have it all (just not all together!).

There you have it--the whole truth, nothing but the truth, so help me God.