Touched Out

I think this blog comes from a place that starts with the words “touched out”. I’m guessing most moms, even the extroverts can relate to this phrase. It’s what happens when you are the center of someone’s universe. I mean the physical centering point in someone’s universe. Haha

I’m a mom at home all day with my children. I have five children. I homeschool. We recently moved away from the people on my life who offered me breaks mostly on my terms. These are all my choices; my choices and I have to live with them. That doesn’t mean that I love every minute of the consequences on my choices. I do love a lot of them. But there are days, or minutes within a day when I’m not feeling the love. Since before I even wake up there has been someone extra in my bed that needed me (and only me) to hold them. I wake up often to someone crying, either because they want mommy to hold them or they weren’t really ready to wake up or they just think crying is a marvelous way to start the day. Whatever. It’s not my favorite sound. And of course I really, truly do attempt to wake up before all the wilds, but newborn babies like you to be awake during the night and take care of them, which makes those last few minutes of morning snoozing so very precious…even if you are holding a two year old in the arm that isn’t holding the newborn and there is a four year old laying on your legs…it’s still precious if you can find any sort of unconsciousness. Until of course, you realize that the bed right next to you is wet. Fun stuff.

Now, that adrenaline that hits when you feel that someone has peed in your bed is probably a good thing. Take advantage of that. Baby into crib. Two year old stripped naked (think to yourself once again that it’s time to change diaper sizes or at least brands because this one leaks at the absolute worst times), four year old sent to the bathroom. Music turned on to wake up the big boys (5,7) and stripping the bed all at the same time.

And then the “I’m hungrys” start. Me too…I’ve been feeding someone all night long, my brain screams at me. Now, here’s where the crazy part comes in…I don’t drink coffee. I know, I’m crazy. I have no idea why I don’t; I just don’t. So, it’s a big glass of water and pancakes mixed up or eggs into the pan or if I just can’t cope today then cereal into the bowl. Usually, there is some running around the table followed by a few well aimed punches at a brother and lots of yelling (hopefully not by me, but don’t count me out…there are days).  As food is prepared, someone is usually pulling on my shirt while someone else rubs my belly (no, I’m not a magic lamp, but I think my kids might think I am) begging for something to tide themself over until breakfast is ready. Umm..no. Once the food hits the table I might have a few blessed moments of peace where I run to the bathroom and then settle into my chair to nurse the baby and check some Facebook or other mindless task on my phone to rescue my introvert side and regroup.

Ok, everybody gets dressed. Bed are made (except mine which has baking soda hopefully getting some of the urine smell out of it) and it’s time for the workbook portion of our school day. Oh, but wait, first table has to be cleared (ok, dishes sometimes just get shoved to the side) and pencils have to be found and here we go.

During all this commotion dishwasher emptied and reloaded must happen as well some laundry thrown in (my peed on sheets on this particular day).

All of this happens before nine AM. I am writing this blog to chronicle my life. If you read it and can relate great. If you read it and think I deserve what I’m getting then just move on. I’m not here to apologize for the choices I’ve made and continue to make. I’m just here writing this for a good laugh or cry. I’m letting it all out. Some days are gonna suck. Some days I’ll find redemption and God’s grace in them. Some days will just be ordinary. These days are my life. I’m going to own them with all the emotions that go with them. They are mine and I will never have another life. This is it and I want to remember it (and if I don’t write it down I will forget most of it). The good, the bad and the ridiculous…because let’s face it, life with five kids is going to completely ridiculous and ridiculously beautiful!

Never apologize for being your beautiful self. J

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