...There's no cape, I avoid tights if I can, I don't wear a mask, or have any special powers. I am just a mom that loves her kids and I am prone to moments of despair just as much as the next person. There has often been a time or of two after a few nights without sleep that I have found tears stinging the corners of my eyes trying to escape down my cheeks.
I can usually stave off those moments; however, there are times when the simple human being in me comes out and makes her presence known. It's just part of the process; the journey I am on and although I work hard to laugh at situations where others fail to see comedy (laughter is the greatest tool that I have in my coping arsenal) I am just like anyone else and I can get a little down in the dumps. The truth is, 'laughter as the best medicine' is also just a mask for what lies underneath the surface. It is the salve that only partially heals my wounds and camouflages them from the rest from the world.
Like I said, I am just a woman; human in every way...plain and simple. I cannot possibly manage to be cool, calm, and collected all of the time. The waters of the dam break every so often and I am caught out on the river floating desperately and clinging to the raft that I have been riding on. The whole while I am hoping to stay afloat through the tempestuous rapids until things finally slow down to a dull eddy where I can relax before the next waves come.
My stresses typically have come from a lack of support. It has been a long road to go alone as many do not realize just how much work my children can be. I think it is the isolation that I feel from spending so much time by myself couple with the frequent sleeplessness. It builds up after a while I have to just let it all out with good solid cry. Some of the stressors I can sit back and laugh about while others I have to work out...by actually working out (the second greatest tool in my arsenal: exercise).
One such instance of the human in me eeking out was when I found myself completely exhausted and alone. I had gone 48 hours without sleep and the prospect for any seemed distant and ever eluding. Aiden was about eight or nine months old; Seamus was nearly four and he was in the process of potty training. Both boys were sick from the stomach flu. The vomiting had stopped and the next phase of diarrhea had taken over. Let's just say, having two little ones in the throws of a vicious stomach virus with one who has just learned to take his diaper off and the older one is working on a sensory breakthrough at the worst possible time...is more than just a little overwhelming. I don't think I had spent that much time cleaning and doing laundry in my entire life; the task was monumental. I remember calling my mother absolutely exhausted and trying to keep my calm, but breaking down in tears all the same, "...my life is sh*t; literally! I just don't know how I can keep doing this all on my own. I am just so tired." She started laughing at what I had said and after I reflected a moment I started laughing too. Right through the tears running down my face. The moment of crisis had passed and I was able to regroup. Sleep did eventually come, even if only a few hours.
It was a human moment. It's one that I survived and on my own. Help comes rarely for me. I have carried a lot by myself even while I was married. Life isn't simple and it wasn't meant to be; it's just what humans do. They fall apart and lift themselves right back up again; resilient.
I think aside from the most poignant lessons of unconditional love, patience, and joy that my sons have taught me would be the lesson that I am stronger than I ever thought I could be. I am capable of holding on; even if just barely. I am a parent...who loves her sons; it's what we do. Anything worth having is worth working for.
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