I ran into a friend the other day checking out at
Lowes. She mentioned how much she laughs
when I post about my kids. She told me I
should be a professional blogger. I
graciously thanked her for the compliment.
I thought about that suggestion the whole way home. What would I “professionally” say? The only thing I have to share is the
clown-show that is my life. It is far
from professional. I don’t have an agenda
to spread. I can’t cook. I don’t make anything from scratch. I don’t eat gluten, dye and sugar free. I am not a progressive parent. I can’t sew.
I am not crafty. I don’t
homeschool. I don’t have much talent of
any kind to share. I have read lots and
lots of professional Mom Bogs and can tell you that those ladies are a talented
bunch. All I can bring to the table is
my personal experience in parenting four kids.
I can assure you that the
experience does not make me a good parent. I am learning as I go. Most of the time my little brain cannot
fathom why God thought I would be a right person to be in charge of my
kids. He must be a comedian. My kids individually are manageable. Together they are more brutal than the best
offensive line in professional football.
Being a parent is so incredibly hard. It is overwhelming and stressful. It can be too much to take sometimes. It is right at those times that I try and
find the absurd in it all and tell it like it is. We are messy, folks. You are messy. I am messy.
It’s time we come to terms with it.
When I share stories about my kids I have a sense that people can
appreciate the honesty of the un-perfect. They see that there are people all
around them that are doing the best they can, but somehow still have kids who
don’t always behave. They can get a
glimpse into the real world where not everyone has a showcase home that is
Joanna Gaines farmhouse beautiful but instead is a hodge podge of candy
wrappers, dirty clothes, and Hotwheels.
Not everyone can cook and sometimes meals of peanut butter and jelly
sandwiches with a side of bacon are served and considered fine dining. Not everyone can be the cool, calm, and
collected parent we wish we could be.
Behind closed doors there is chaos.
I promise it is in every home.
People try to hide it all day long, but I am telling you that they
cannot fool me. I live in chaos. Anyone who has kids and claims they don’t
have it is lying. I am here to tell you
it is real. I try and tell it like it happens and when “real” happens, it is
funny. Isn’t it said that laughing is
the best form of therapy? I want people
to think, “Thank God I am not the only person who has actually had to utter the
words ‘Please stop pulling your brother’s nipples" today.
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| someecards.com |
In my house we experience lots of good times. We do laugh a lot. A lot.
There is never a dull moment, and I am by no means a perfect parent. Most of the time I don’t think I am even
qualified for the job. My kids are loud,
obnoxious, and are usually misbehaving.
They don’t always respect my authority.
I am not consistent when it comes to rules. They are sometimes spoiled. There are many days in my house when things
are ugly. Ugly words have been uttered. Tears have been shed. Punches have been thrown (*To clarify just
the boys throw punches at each other. I do
not throw punches although sometimes I would like to.) Many days are tough. I cry.
I keep vineyards in business. Bedtime
can’t come soon enough. I feel like a
horrible parent. Then I get on Facebook
and see everyone else and their perfect kids, spouses, lives, homes, vacations
and so forth. I think that there is no
way that I am the only one who has to work really hard at just getting by. It is a lonely feeling when social media
breaks down your confidence. I always
feel like I must be the crazy one.
I am not telling you how to handle yourself, but I know if I
don’t do a few things to defuse my cray-cray you might as well show me the way
to the asylum. A straight jacket does
not care how funny my kids are. I have
developed a few coping strategies. They
are not text book. They are not backed
by scientific data. They are
unconventional at best. If you choose to
try some of these, please know that I am not legally liable for any damage to
person or property they may cause. All
I am saying is that parenting is hard. Parenting
high maintenance, high intensity children is even harder. In addition to finding the funny in it all, you
have to give yourself some reprieve if you want to survive.
My list of strategies is as follows:
1.
Medication
2.
Therapy
3.
Swear
4.
Wine
5.
Exercise
6.
Own it
Medication: See a doctor.
Get some meds. Take them. Go back to said doctor because you are still
a hot mess. Get some more meds and take
those too. Parenting is not for the
weak. Just because it’s not for the weak
doesn’t mean we aren’t weak. We all need
help in some capacity. My personal
weakness is that I struggle with depression, anxiety, and attention. I am not shy about it. I own my issues. I know that with out the assistance of
chemicals to get my head right I would be lost as a person and a parent. My kids need me to help guide them through
these turbulent waters and if I can’t swim myself we all drown. If medicine can help you get on solid ground,
then by all means get some. Don’t be
shy. Ask for help from your doctor. There is no shame in needing medicine. My yoga instructor tells me all the time to
honor your body. Honor where you are
today. You know what your body can and
can’t do today. Give it what it
needs. Mine needs meds. Period.
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| someecards.com |
Therapy: Talk
to someone. I don’t care if it is a
doctor, a counselor, your spouse, a friend, a bartender, or a random person on
the street. Just get stuff off your
chest. Vent. Take the weight off your shoulders. Mr. Rogers once said, “If we can talk about
our feelings, they become less overwhelming and less upsetting.” You would be surprised how many people can
relate to what you are experiencing. You
realize you are not alone. How you feel as the commander of the parenting ship
directly impacts all the passengers on the boat. If momma ain’t happy, ain’t no one
happy.
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| quickmeme.com |
Swear: I never realized what a potty mouth I
have running in my head until I started muttering some of those words out loud
(under my breath, of course). Saying
them is empowering. It helps defuse my anger
when my anger gets the best of me.
Stringing them together in new ways helps me feel creative. When they do slip out in front of the kids,
the kids really seem to understand that I mean business. Deal with it. A friend posted something recently on my
Facebook timeline that I find to be the truth:
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| scarymommy.com |
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| quotesgram.com |
Wine: I love it. I love the process of pouring
it into a glass and sitting down to take that first sip. I know it is one of the only times during the
day that I will sit for more than 35 seconds straight. There are many days when that one glass of
wine helps take the edge off. It helps
me to relax and it tones down the stimuli that my brain receives as I watch my
children. It makes them funnier. It makes me funnier to myself. Life is just a little better all around after
I drink a glass of chard-o-nay-nay.
Exercise: When I do CrossFit and yoga, it is the ONLY
time of the day that I feel strong.
Every other minute I feel beat down.
It is my outlet. Find one for
yourself. Run, dance, swim, spin, or walk. Do something.
Do something that makes you feel better about yourself. Do something that makes you work hard and
that has nothing to do with your family.
Find something makes you feel like superwoman just by finishing it. Burn off steam. Work out the anger and anxiety. Every time I work out, I always, always,
always feel better about the other things that are happening in my day that I
cannot control. It gives me a new
perspective.
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| DreamWorks / Via predatornutrition.com |
Own It: Own the funny. Know that those experiences belong to your family. Writing down the wacky things that happen is a great way to defuse the frustration you may feel about it while it is happening. Every single person I know could write a novel on the absurd things that they have seen and experienced. You don’t have to share it with anyone if you don’t want to or you could write a blog about it and share it with the world. Don’t forget to document it with photographs. Sometimes you won’t even believe it until you see it.
So there you have it.
These are the coping strategies that help me keep my head above
water. Is it professional advice? No. Is
it good advice? Probably not. Does it work for me? Hell yes.
That’s all I got, folks.
I probably will never be a professional blogger. I am not sure how I would make enough doing
that to cover the cost of bail for my kids’ future jail time. What I can promise you is that I will keep
telling it like it is. I will always
share with you funny as funny happens. I
will never sugar coat my reality to look like I have perfect kids or a perfect
life. Everyone is a hot mess. No one is exempt. My mess is just funny.
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