Work

Sometimes I find myself thinking I would be a much better parent if I only had one child.  Other times, I remember what it was like to only have one child and I realize that I'm a much better parent now.

On one hand, if I only had one child, I would have time (in theory) to keep the house clean and organized, get some exercise, prepare filling and nutritious meals, and pour myself into creating an enriching childhood for Nicholas.  

On the other hand, by having three children I am a more patient and well-versed mother.  I have much more perspective and calmness about me now than I did the first time around.  I am providing my children with siblings--who can teach them many things that I cannot.

Things they learn through experience like sharing, compassion, gentleness, empathy, and fraternity.

And teasing, of course.

But sometimes I can't help but feel like a terrible let-down as a mother.  I know, in the rational part of my brain, that I am a good mother.  I love my children.  I provide them with a safe, peaceful, protected, healthy environment.  I show them how much I love them all the time, and I genuinely enjoy my work as a mother.  

However, the emotional part of my brain is completely overwhelmed with guilt.  Guilt at how I would rather check-out mentally and watch a torrid teenage soap opera than spend time with my two-year-old.  Guilt at how easy it is for me to plunk my kids (yes, kidS, even my infants) in front of the television just so that I can do something that I want to do (like take a shower that's long enough for me to wash my hair) instead of playing cars...AGAIN.  That's a lie.  I don't play cars.  I don't know how, and I hate it.  But I feel very little guilt over that.  I will play with my son in different ways.  I don't do cars.  That's Dad's job.   

In front of the TV, as admitted.
And to add to the gloriousness, those are shoes that the girls are chewing on.  

I know things will change with time.  Right now they are all very, very little.  They are impressionable and susceptible.  They are at the mercy of emotional state which is why I feel so much guilt...all...the...time.  Because, let's face it, my emotional state right now is very fragile!  You try to be reasonable and sound minded when you're never asleep for longer than 1-2 hours at a time.  A good friend of mine related to me that her second child never slept for longer than 2 hours at a time from birth to age 9 months and during that time she hated her life.  Quite literally.  She would say it to herself all throughout the day (which I'm sure didn't help things, but really, can you blame her??).  Then, once she started getting some more sleep, all of a sudden she loved her life.  She saw all of the wonderful aspects of having two children.  Nothing had changed in her life at all except that she was getting more sleep at night. 

Thankfully, I'm not at that point yet (give me a few more months, maybe).  I am still able to see through my sleep deprived fog and appreciate how incredible my life is at this stage.  I gotta tell you--- there is nothing better than laying next to a sleeping child curled into your abdomen.  Or watching your baby fall asleep nursing, knowing that he/she feels content and safe in your arms.  Multiply that feeling by two when I get to watch them fall asleep nursing and holding each others hands!  Love it.

I guess my real guilt comes from not being available to Nicholas.  I purposely chose NOT to read parenting books for a long time because whenever I picked one up, I felt nothing but anxiety and guilt.  Even if I was doing what the book said I should be doing!  Parenting books, to me, are just an affirmation that it's possible that you could really screw up your kids if you do it wrong.  And there are so many ways to do it wrong.  I've gotten to the point that I can take advice with a grain of salt---realize that it's advice, and not the gospel.  But more recently, all of the parenting blogs/articles/books that I used to find helpful and enlightening are just plain scary to me.  

The girls are pretty easy at this stage--- as long as I keep them well-fed, well-rested, and interact with them by holding them/talking to them, I feel like I'm succeeding.  Well done.  

Most of my angst comes from watching Nicholas perish by the wayside.  He's so sensitive to everything that I do.  EVERYTHING.  And I kind of feel like I'm training up a little couch potato diabetic.  When he gets grumpy, I give him food.... or plop him in front of an episode of Shaun the Sheep because I just don't have the mental energy to "deal" with anything.  I really only make an effort to interact with him when the guilt over him playing by himself for so long becomes overwhelming.

A small moment of interactive mom... those are shark socks on our hands.

So then I go over to him, all gung-ho, thinking I'm going to be the best mommy ever for the next 15 minutes and do whatever it is he wants to do.  One of two things ends up happening: 1. the girls wake up, become discontented with whatever was entertaining them, or decide they have to have food now or they will languish with starvation.  2. he wants to play cars, of course, and, as already stated, I hate that.  So I get bored after 15 seconds, let alone 15 minutes.  I decide to suggest an activity that I would like to do with him.  If I can get him to agree, then we have to get all prepped for it (if it's going outside, we need shoes on.  If it's a craft, I have to get it out.  If it's a game, I need to find it.  If it's building tracks, we need to go downstairs which means moving the babies.  etc. etc.).  And without fail, by the time we're ready to really start having fun together, the girls melt down.  So then poor Nicholas either gets left by himself again, or I turn on the television so I can feed the girls in peace.  (sidenote:  why is it that babies who are hungry enough to scream until their throats get rough aren't hungry enough to keep their mouths on the nipple if their big brother emits any kind of noise??)

Okay, if we're going to be honest, the real guilt comes from me not doing what I should be doing.  Guilt doesn't just come from nowhere.  If I reached for my scriptures instead of the television remote or if I picked up a cleaning rag instead of my knitting, I probably wouldn't feel so guilty.  I'd probably be able to make good decisions like going to bed as soon as the kids go to bed instead of staying up late putzing around just so I can relish the fact that I have nobody touching me, crying in my ear, or making me do what they want to do.  Nighttime is when I get to do what I want to do!!!!  

I like to tell myself that I NEED my down time to rest and recuperate.  I like to tell myself that it's a necessity to my performance as a good mother.  But, is it really?  We had a talk about work on Sunday.  I would like to tell you what the whole wonderful talk was about, but I can really only recall my personal impressions.  I know there were some great references to talks by general authorities, but keeping three little ones quiet is a little involved, and I really only retain what I am feeling during the talks.  And what I felt was this:  Now is the time for work.  Work is a blessing.  It helps us.  We feel good doing it.  It helps the work of the Lord.  There is no such blessing and good feeling in idleness.  And what I am doing and calling "rest" is really just idle behavior.  I can rest efficiently for my needs by sitting peacefully or meditating.  I can get the mental break that I need by reading a good book or taking a nap.  All of these would be great forms of rest that help me be a better worker.  What I'm doing now-- wasting away hours in front of the television or my computer--- not helping me move forward.  It feels like I'm giving my mind a break, escaping from reality for a bit, but I'm really just filling it with trash.  

My problem here is not knowing what needs to be done.  It's doing it.  This post was more about sorting through my feelings and thoughts than anything else.  I felt like my head was going to burst with all of these horrible feelings of failure and frustration.  Now that I've taken the time to express some of my thoughts in words, I'm feeling much better.  It's always great to articulate what you're feeling.