A life without a story.

There often seems to be no point to my writing, which is I guess why there is so little of it these days.  If I write about the good things, I feel like I’m bragging.  If I write about the bad things, I am complaining.  What is left is the plain old nothing to tell days.

I have a cold.  It is not terrible, but it makes everything feel exhausting.

I spent the entire morning on accounting, and then I picked Ella up from the bus stop.  We had to go grocery shopping.  We have had so many football and basketball games in the last couple of weekends that just filling our bellies was in itself an accomplishment, forget about grocery shopping.

When we got home and got all of the groceries unloaded and put away, it was time for the boys to get home from school.  William came home with an attitude.  I don’t know why.  The boys got ticked off at each other and it went downhill from there.  The attitude.  The defiance.  The hateful words.

I am trying.  I am trying to be a good mother.  I am trying to feed them well, and teach them well, and be a soft place for them to fall.  But it feels like an argument all day long.  Why can’t we get this cereal, why does everything always have to be healthy, why do you have to care so much.  Why can’t I have safari, why can’t I watch this movie, why can’t I play on the ipad for 4 hours today.  Why do you have to care.  

Because I care.

I forgot today was the day my children were supposed to bring a flower to their teacher.  I am trying so hard to remember everything, but I always forget something.  My inability to accomplish the list of things I assign myself is a constant downer.  There is too much to do, so I pick the immediate needs…what can we not live without?  And the rest gets left for another day.  Only that day doesn’t seem like it’s ever going to arrive.  I look around and feel a little overwhelmed at what needs doing around here.  I try to ignore the dust, and the fingerprints and the crumbs.  Some days I convince myself that I did enough…I give myself the pep talk that I’m doing great.  

Some days I don’t.  And this was one of those days.  The words didn’t roll off my back.  They were absorbed.  They feed the worm inside my head — the one with all the insults.  The one that tells me I am never going to be the mother I wanted to be.  How can I be?  How can I ever be the perfect goal I had set for myself?  I have the Hallmark version of motherhood in my head, when in reality, I am a mom sitting in an 11 year old car (which is not smelling real good at the moment), in an old pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, with makeup that is half cried off, a dog on my lap that is howling at the passers-by and feeling rather beat up by this cold I have.  

I must look like a train wreck.  Do they notice?  Do the kids notice that their mother is a mess?  Some day they will.  Some day they will see.    

I go into the den to get my computer, and there are love notes from my boys.  I keep all of these notes.  Sometimes I read them…they’re tucked safely in my purse…in the zipper pocket…in my calendar…in my bureau…in my drawer filled with love letters and special cards and things I never want to lose. Some of them just say “I love you.”  Some are drawings.  Some tell a story.

Maybe I save them because they make me feel like I’m not such a bad mother after all.

They love me.

A life without a story.

7 thoughts on “A life without a story.

  1. veronica kosinski says:

    Oh my darling…I still feel the way you do, even after I see how wonderful all of you have turned out. You just have to keep keeping on, that’s motherhood. Such a hard job. But in the end there is success in seeing your children succeed–you will see. Though you, as your mother’s daughter, will never take credit for their wonderfulness. I say this as one who knows, and as a tear rolls down my cheek.

  2. Toni :0) says:

    Whoa, this is scary. I was just thinking of you, wondering how you’ve been, sorry you are under the weather. :0( Boy, it amazes me how much I can relate to you and what you have to say, our lives mirror one another except I have two less kids. I drive an 11 year old car too, I suck at trying to keep my house clean (a Mother’s Day gift is my hubby and kids are cleaning the house for me bless their hearts), I always have zero sense of accomplishment both at my new job and at home daily. It just never stops or slows down. It sucks. Somedays I wish I could afford a maid and cook, then I wouldn’t feel so inadequate. All we can do is support one another and I’m most glad to hear that I’m not the only one feeling this way. It’s SOOO tough working full-time outside of the home (no slam at SAHM at all, its rough for everyone it’s just life is different as I can’t even run laundry if I’m not even at home), taking care of my family and all of their activities, marriage, house, taking care of my parents…the list seems endless. Hang in there, all we can do is the best job we know how, and just take it one day at a time. Off to bed so I can’t worry about anything more today. Take care gal! :0)

  3. Brittany says:

    I don’t know what its like to be a mom, I think its the hardest job ever, so I have avoided it. I do know that I tortured my mom, i was mean and nasty and hated that she cared. She is my best friend in the whole world now. One day they will get it! In the meantime, maybe its a small comfort to know that i think you are awesome! Especially at being a great mom! I hope that cold goes away soon…or by some miracle you could sleep in tomorrow! Sleep cures everything:)

  4. Linda says:

    Here is my letter that I wrote a few years ago. Hopefully it will cheer you and encourage you to just push thru it, it is TOTALLY worth it and the Payback is Tenfold. I am continually amazed that I had something to do with forming the character of human beings on this earth.

    April 2011
    Another Aww-haa moment for me, which included a huge smile on my face.
    As a parent , your goal is to teach your baby to eat, sleep, play, crawl, walk, talk, learn, decision making, being a good friend, marry, raise children and with every step have happiness, get thru the sadness and become stronger .
    I often talk to my adult kids that live on the opposite coast, about their lives and living day to day in careers, marriage, and early parenthood. Today, I noticed it in a full circle, my adult kids think and care like I did and they have concerns of the outcome. They too have the same cares that I did while raising them. To know that I could hear my daughters thoughts and concerns in my head before she said them, and repeating it to her and with a sigh of relief, when she said “Yea, I do feel that way”.
    This Aww-Haa moment touched my heart so deeply. Still today, and those years ago, I question myself? Am I a worthy parent, to be responsible to raise a child thru adulthood? To be capable to teach what I learn from my mistakes and my parents? Was that good enough for my children? YES, I always questioned my ability! It raises the bar, raising my kids to my high standards is hard, and a lot of those days harder than others, but I will always and continue to raise the bar and to do my very best to keep it very high. I have Great Children!

  5. I was so happy to see a new post from you! This makes me sad though, because I’ve seen what an awesome mom you are first hand – and I know how awesome your kids are because of it.

    And, you’re first paragraph struck me. There are very few blogs written by mothers that I can read these days, really for a long while now, but yours is always a safe place. Even when you complain (which we ALL do and, quite honestly, need to do), your perspective is so beautiful. Your honesty about parenting has taught me so much – and reminds me that should I ever get to be a mom, it will not be all perfect.

    Your gratitude of your motherhood is what does it, I think. Even in the midst of posts where you are struggling, your joy of being a mom and your gratitude for your kiddos is beautiful.

    Sending some extra prayers your way this evening!

  6. Being a parent is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Even when things are going (generally) well. You’re not a complainer – you’re just honest about it. And you are doing such a lovely job with your kids. They will not remember the dust, or the fingerprints, or the crumbs. They don’t care about the 11 year old car, either.

    When I remember my childhood – and we had a busy house, full of people coming and going, not a ton of money, and my dad worked shift-work so our schedule was varied – I just remember that my parents were THERE. I remember the LOVE. And the fun times.

    I know it’s a struggle, every day.

    I think of Jesus’ words about taking up our cross and following him. Which is sacrifice. Most of the parents I know would die for their kids, if they were in danger. But the whole parenting gig… it is dying. It’s not one big sacrifice, but it’s the every-single-day sacrifice.

    And that’s what you are doing. And that’s why it’s so hard. And the reward will be great in the long run.

    And I know you know that, but we all need to be reminded once in awhile. :o)

    And now I’m rambling, but I want you to know that I admire you as a mom,


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