[When I feel like this, it helps to write. Often times I leave it as a draft, and don't post it. It helped me process. I feel better. Emotions are now down on paper (err...in cyberspace), and not clogging my head as much. But this time, I'm gonna hit publish. I hate that I even have to feel so self conscious about this, about writing this at all--I'm sure something has to do with the fact that this is read by a lot of people, many of whom I know in real life. I'd rather just pretend I have it all together, but I don't. True life, people. Katie's a mess sometimes, more often than not. Be nice, please.]
Today I'm having a hard day. Today I can't really just cover it up with "Oh I'm great" when people ask how I'm doing. Today I don't really feel strong. I feel weak, actually. Really weak. And tired. Oh yea, lots of tired.
I absolutely thought I could handle two kids. I absolutely thought that it would come with trials (it DOES), but that I'd figure it out, no big deal! It's much harder than I ever thought. Actually, I'm not even sure what I thought, but more so I just couldn't really imagine it until it became my life. And now it's my life, alright. And it's hard.
Actually, I'm not even sure that hard is the word. Solving a rubix cube is hard. Doing statistics is hard. Engineering a spaceship. That's hard.
Having a newborn yelling at you and a toddler who just scraped their knee, now bleeding, all while trying to finagle them to the car without getting hit by cars, tears, OH THE TEARS, feeling your body temperature rise because of the stress or maybe, just maybe it's the 40lb diaper bag you're lugging, along with an arm full of 10lb baby in a 10lb seat, and the 25lb 2 year old you're trying to buckle that's making you sweat?
Well that? It's not easy, but I don't know that hard is the word to describe that.
It's more so....exhausting? challenging? ohmygosh can I pull my hair out now? To put it nicely. And I'm not even sure any of those words fully describe some of the peak-anxiety-ridden moments I've had.
Sometimes I feel bad--I feel bad when people only know Mom-Katie. Because Mom-Katie? She's frazzled. She's kind of stressed out. She's looking like a hot mess. And she can't hold a conversation because if she does? Someone's off in the corner getting into x, y & z. Mom-Katie appears to be disinterested, when really, she's SO VERY INTERESTED, and feels so badly that she can't be fully present because there's so!much!else! going on. Mom-Katie doesn't ever get to listen to a full sermon at church. Mom-Katie invites people over for dinner, only to interrupt our company 30483098x with some sort of request/command, Emeline, please don't jump on the stool. Emeline, please don't throw your food. Oh, excuse me, I need to feed the baby. and please forgive me for getting up from the dinner table 400 times in the course of 20 minutes.
The old me could have conversations, full ones...engaging ones. The old me could walk into church and not seem so frazzled/busy that she could stop and hug to greet everyone. The old me could have dinner parties and actually talk to my guests without interruption. The old me seemed a whole lot more calm. A whole lot less stressed.
Since Mom-Katie isn't going away anytime soon, I better figure this out. I hope I can.
Today my pastor said (hey, look! I heard something!), "When things aren't going well, stop hoping, and change them."
I wrote it down because I wanted to think about that more.
Personally, I think my transition to two kids could be going better than this. So what can I do to change it? How can I stop just hoping it gets better, and make it better?
I don't know. I honestly think the change is in me. The change has to occur in me, somehow.
I need more patience. Other than praying daily for patience, what else can I do to make it better? How can I communicate better, more effectively to my toddler, so I don't lose my cool and then feel awful about it later? How can I stop being annoyed by the messy house, and instead just live in the moment, present with my kids?
I have a lot of questions. And a lot of soul seeking to do.
I love my babies, so hard it hurts--but I want to be better. I want to be less stressed, and more capable. And I want them to know I have their heart, and care about their feelings. I don't want to wish away the days just because in the moment the stress of getting out the door and into the car outweighs everything else.
I hate that I even have to write that I'm just not feeling like I'm getting it. And for the love, why can't this two kids thing just feel normal, and easy? and come naturally? And be a cinch?
And as I sit here, I'm flooded with moments where it has been more on the easy side, and it has been peaceful, and lots of little quiet, sweet moments with my girls throughout the day. And I feel guilty about having these moments of weakness, and heck, vulnerability. And I think I should just delete this whole thing because WE DO HAVE GOOD DAYS! I love being a mom! Don't judge me! But then I remember, that's just my insecurity. Until I can let my guard down, I can't grow. And I need to grow.
I also know that someone else probably feels this way, too. I'm not alone. Tomorrow's a new day.
I'm gonna stop hoping, and just make it better.