Holey socks

It was about the time I looked down at my cold bare feet and reached into my husbands dresser for a pair of socks; that I started to break down. Suddenly the curtains tacked to the windows with no curtain rods really began to stand out. With an increasingly fussy infant in arm, I struggled to pull on the large socks. Frustrated and angered at the thought of my own- lost or with holes in them. Laundry that has been needing folding, towering in our bedroom at the foot of our bed. Never enough time though I'm home all day. How does that happen?

Motherhood has a way. Though i have plenty of good moments; wonderfully rich moments, it is quite possibly, at times, the most discouraging work I will ever have. 

While feeding Eli, the potty training toddler began peeing on the floor. Not one. Not two. But three different places on the carpet. In a matter of minutes. He also managed to urinate partially on a DVD case and I kneeled down, relieved for the easier wipe-down job. 

While fixing lunch in pajamas, two kids began fighting again. While the fighting ensued, the toddler came up and pulled down the dishwasher door. Ashton tried to push the door back up for me but he let out an unholy scream instead. -Liam had just bit him on his stomach. Infuriated, I stepped away from the peanut butter and grabbed Liam in a football hold while holding Eli in my other arm. Liam was sent to bed.

I felt like my morning was wasted. Filled with the very yelling I always told myself I'd never do. Would my children remember this as a happy home? Most certainly not! I thought. A morning spent grumpy and with eye rolls. Sleep deprived. Feeling over-worked, under appreciated, not good enough, ugly.

As the day went on, my mind brought me to places I hate. I began thinking of my family. And it made my heart hurt. I grew up in a broken family. I lived under the same roof as my father for 16 years and I went almost entirely unnoticed. Only pictures remind me of what he looked like because I could never make eye contact with him. He wouldn't, even if I tried.

I could count on one hand and tell you how many members of my family I speak to now. 

Will this be the fate of my own family Please God, my heart can't take that. I so badly want to create something good and better. All while looking down at the holes in my socks and the tacked up curtains. It's all my heart longs for, Lord. I'm trying. 

Before bed last night, I cried hard. It doesn't happen as frequently as it used to but the tears came again and my heart felt worthless. Feeling like my presence did not matter to anyone. Feeling sorry for myself that most of my family probably need to look at pictures to remember what I look like. Feeling like I'm failing as a mother. What if they only remember me, tired and worn out? Yelling. Clothes that do not fit me and windows without curtain rods? 

It is rare I share anything too personal on my blog because I don't like to look back at the bad. Who does? But, for what it's worth, I wanted my kids to know there have been plenty of times I went to bed feeling discouraged and wishing I were so much more. Kissing their beautiful sleeping faces, with tears in my eyes saying i am so sorry. I will do better tomorrow.

I want so much for them. I want them to grow happy and thriving. And maybe that's what I need to cling on to. That my presence does matter and they won't remember so much of this mother with holey socks and tacked up curtains. But a mother who wants nothing more than for them to be happy. A mother that says I'm sorry and a mother that goes to sleep, sometimes in tears, praying for them and for herself. To be the kind of mother they deserve. 

May you grow up and be kind and loving towards one another. Never let so much time pass where you forget eachothers faces. Love your nieces and nephews. Build something bigger and better. That is my prayer. 

Before I closed my eyes last night, Josh walked in and handed me a new bag of socks he had just picked up from the store. 

I fell asleep, knowing things were going to be ok. Feeling loved despite everything my mind had told me. 

No more holey socks.

Xoxo, Jessie