Heavy Stuff

     "Mom!...... Moouuummm!..... MOM! WAKE UP! Are you awake yet? It's time to get up."

     "George. What. Do. You. Want.

     Can I play on the I pad?

     It is 4:30 in the morning. No. Go back to bed.

     I have to go potty.

     Then go.

     THEN can I play on the I pad?

     No.

     I think I am hungry. Can you make me breakfast?

    Why the heck don't you ever wake your Dad up?! No! Go potty and go back to bed.

     If I am really really quiet, and stop bugging you, get my own yogurt for breakfast, not eat it in your chair, and go potty by myself, THEN can I play on the I pad? Longer than Joe can?

     Uggghhh. No. Kindly direct any more questions toward your Father.

     Fine. Move over, so I can get in and snuggle with you. You sleep too much, mom.

My kids are absolutely the best and most wonderful part of my day. Even at 4:30 in the morning. And, Lord knows, in the craziness of the world in general, everyone needs at least one thing in their life that makes everything else bearable.

     I have thought a lot about it lately. About kids, I mean. And the crazy world, and parenting. And life. And people, and psyche. And I have reached a few (personaly) unsettling conclusions. Parenting, and trying to do it right, is HARD. And knowing I have these 4 little people with 4 huge personalities, to attempt to guide into productive, independant, decent, hard working, kind adults, with values and morals, esp in this day and age, is HARD. And if I think about it too much, it's almost panic inducing. That is a lot of responsibility.

     When I watch my kids individualy, I think I'm doing okay. Or, they are okay in spite of me. This past week, Lexi had her First Comunion. It was a stressful event, and the first year of a new religious program at church, headed by a new person, and it was pretty chaotic. It even resulted in someone from church coming to the house to get Lexi for an evening class/practice a few days before the event, as we hadn't known she was supposed to be there, and we were both working. Which ressulted in a panicked call from Kaila, telling me someone had just taken Lexi. How do you explain the church just literaly kidnapped your child? They returned her, and, except for the hour and fourty minute mass, complete with the carpet on the alter accidently getting set afire, First Communion went okay. In that, it was done, and she recieved her First Communion, which was the desired end result. Through this, she leaned over and whispered; "Mom. Do I need to make my kids do this some day?"

     Do what?

     This whole first Communion, confession thing?

     If you're Catholic, you probably should.

     I don't think I will. Make my kids do any of this, I mean.

     Lexi, it's not like I dragged you kicking and screaming to the alter, kiddo. And I REEEAAALLLLY don't think I want to have this conversation and the realization I have failed as a Mother in church, okay?

My immediate thought was, 'Dear Lord, don't let my Mother find out about this chat', followed by, 'I have somehow screwed this up, and am going directly to hell', and then, 'I never questioned this. Kaila never questioned this, it never occured to any of us to question this, why would she even THINK to question this?!' Which rolled into, 'That's kinda awesome, that my nine year old is such an out of the box thinker. And I hope she always is.'

In her defense, the First Communion prep, the strict Sunday school schedules, the threats of starting all over again next year, if there was less than stellar attendance, giving up sleepovers and parties, and getting in the required Community Service, signing a lengthly rule book, and the general chaos didn't help this decision. Topped with getting dragged out of her home by a stranger who was yelling at her for messing up everything, and making everyone late, and an hour and a half penance service first thing in the morning, and then an almost two hour First Communion mass, and I can see her hesitation. It was pretty traumatic.

I imagine the stories of that memorable day will entertain us for years. And hope that things in our church settle down enough that she can enjoy it enough to still want to be part of it when she's a Mother. Or, enjoy what she can, while wrestling her own children, anyway.

It's my kids who make the stresses of daily life, and the bumps in the road bearable. It's smiling through tears at First Communions, and award cerimonies, and birthday cakes that go rushing by entirely too quickly, at thier antics, and one liners, and sweet things they do, and thinking maybe I'm not screwing this up too badly, that get me through rough times. And maybe, that's a lot of pressure on them, too.
 I recently watched in proud amazement the other night,  as Kaila was called up to the stage at school multiple times, for various awards. And, as happy as I was for her, I wanted her to know I would love her just as much, and be just as proud, even if she didn't receive any awards. Do our kids know they are amazing just because they are amazing? Do we sometimes make them feel like they have to work for our approval?

It is so hard, to put my kids to bed the night before a 3 or 4 day stretch at work begins, and tuck them in and tell them I will see them in a few days. As I look for per diem and part time 2nd and 3rd jobs, I know it is just going to be more time spent away from these amazing little people. And I will miss so much of their daily lives and stories. And it is hard. Will they know someday, that I have to do this, to take care of them, or will they resent a Mother that seemed like she was never home and there for them? Will this be a good example of hard work, or will it be memories of a tired Mom who is grouchy and impatient when over tired/over stressed? Who knows. Amazing as they are, they still require food, clothes and medical coverage.

A few days ago,  Jasin was in an auto accident, while I was at work. Unfortunately, after I found out everyone was okay, my heart completely sank to my toes, as I realized the resulting cost of this accident was going to mean I needed to speed up the job searches. Everyone was okay, and, the other vehicle had a mother and her twin 5 year olds. She wrote on Facebook the next day, that she Thanked God they were okay, and couldn't stop hugging them. I am so glad the worst part of the accident was me needing to work more to pay for it, and no one was hurt. Miracles are there, if you look, right?

What a heavy post this is! I suppose, in the end, what I was trying to say, is that being a parent is hard. But I love it. And hope like heck I'm doing okay at it. Don't ever judge another parent. Chances are, they are trying their best, too.