Struggles in reading and math.
All the crying and all the fussing.
It’s enough to make anyone go insane!
Although I prayed for a mild-tempered, sweet-sleeping baby girl, apparently the Father knew that instead I needed a spit-fire who only sleeps next to mommy.
Add that to recovering from not only c-section but also severe blood loss and hysterectomy, and it’s a disaster. (For those wondering if this is “it,” there’s the answer.;))
Honestly, this has been the most difficult recovery, naturally, and a very isolated, lonely place. It’s not that people haven’t been here for us, it’s just that day in and day out we feed, we rock, we bounce, we cry, and we feed again. Somehow, some way, I’ve been trying to squeeze school in, and it’s been a mess. I’ve been a hot mess!
The utter loosey goosey-ness of my household has sent me ever so close to the proverbial edge.
Changing Perspective: Realizing I “Get to”
And then it hit me–with the help of a fellow homeschooling mom–I get to do this.
Truthfully, the stubborn, whiny southern gal deep within me wants to argue. To stand firm in my sorrow. No, I have to. I really don’t have a choice. I have to feed these children, I have to get this fussy baby to sleep somehow, and I have to finish out this homeschooling school year–somehow. You know, all without losing my ever-loving mind!
But no. The truth is, I get to.
I get to be mommy to a newborn all over again, to use my body to nourish hers, to feel the warmth and her gentle nuzzle right next to me. It will only last for a season. A short one, relatively speaking, and one I’ll never get to be in again.
I get to be home with my kids. I get to teach them the way I want to, and teach them things we want them to know. Conviction and sacrifice brought us to this place, and now I get to be here.
Needing a constant reminder
Don’t get me wrong. I struggle every.single.day. And every.single.day, I have to tell myself that I get to do this. When I groan because I have to get up and face yet another day of grinding it out, I remind myself that it’s only a season. And then I run to the coffee pot for a cuppa warm elixir of life. 😉
As wives and moms, managers of the home, we get to do all the things. Hard is a gross understatement. Often, we want to give up, but we remind ourselves that we have this opportunity for reasons we may not understand.
One word can change your whole perspective. “Have to” is a chore, an unpleasant drudgery. “Get to” is something we look forward, a joy we are excited about, a reward.
When the baby is screaming inconsolable it doesn’t feel like a “get to.” It feels like a “have to” in which we are barely hanging on by a thread.
In those moments, we must remind ourselves that it won’t last forever. Instead, we must push through the “have to” moments by telling ourselves they are part of the “get to.”
As I lay in bed with my sweet victory baby following the colic scream, I realize the perfect sweetness of her presence. And I remember once again that I get to.