All Mom's get Exhausted

I just love the parents who never raise their voices at their children,who hardly ever have to count to 10(or even a thousand in some cases), who rarely get upset at the broken vases, premature hair cutting(that usually happens coincidentally at around age three or four) and seldom get frustrated at all the other mishaps that our little angels get into.  That parent, is not me.

I wanted to be "that" parent.  And I do strive to be, but it definitely doesn't happen every day.  My day started out with spilled Cheerios all over the floor and table.  No big deal, dismissible.  A side of cute happened a small bit later when my three and a half year old somehow managed to put her tutu on her dog.  My daughter just busted out in laughter which made me start laughing hysterically, and got my sons attention so he could join in on the laughter.  It was the most adorable thing, that poor dog has endured so much already, I truly am surprised she has not run away yet.

A while later, but before lunch, an all out fight broke loose about who was going to climb on a ladder I had in the house for a painting project(I forgot the note to self about putting the ladder away before the kids started climbing on it).  Lilly was pushing my son trying to get him off the 3ft ladder, my son Brady was just screaming and crying that he wasn't up at the top.  Of course Brady fell off!  Are you kidding!  I didn't yell, I simply said, in a somewhat stern voice, "okay, Lilly get down."  I put the ladder sideways on the floor.  I stepped out of the bedroom to catch a minute phone call, only to come back to the room to find both children on the ladder again.  One on one side and one on the other.  They weren't fighting anymore, so I left it.  They had fun.  I walked over to tell them all the things they could pretend, like being on a boat, or a building high in the air.  That kept their attention for a good 15 minutes.  When the novelty wore off and they moved onto a new adventure, I folded up the ladder and safely put it in a closet.

The day went on, and went by pretty well.  However, it never lasts.  We got home from a friends house and it was so incredibly nice for an April afternoon we stayed outside to play.  Brady immediately dove in feet first through a left over puddle from the rain the day prior.  Not a problem, he's a boy, he loves water.  It was a small puddle.  Have fun!  Lilly grabbed her tricycle and zoomed past me several times, also trudging through the water.  This was nice.  The kids were playing so peacefully, so I quickly took my things into the house and came back outside.  What happened next turned me into Dr Jekyll.  I didn't see the kids right away so I peered around the other side of the garage to find my eighteen month old thigh high in left over rain water.  Now, I pause to think, some people would think it's cute.  I did not.  Although my daughter was dry, I had a sneaky suspicion that she too had rampaged through the puddle but had escaped before I could see her in it.  I started to count in my head.  I got to one and just started yelling. "Get out of the water!"  I laugh while typing this because what wasn't covered in water, was covered in mud.  He was so freaking cute.  I really wish I could have laughed then, but it was just to upsetting.  I did not handle that situations so well.  One disciplinary action later and we were all in the house trying to get the soaking wet jeans off my son, trying to keep a level head on my shoulders. The days just seem to be getting more and more eventful.  I need to reconsider a new way to stop, take a deep breath and remember parenting doesn't have to be so by the book.  Don't do this, don't do that.  He wasn't hurting anything, which leads me to the story of my mommy.
I was the baby of a family of seven.  My mom for the most part stayed home until I was 5 or 6 years old.  Now with 7 kids running around I can imagine my mom having to count to a million before catching her cool.   But what I remember, my mom never yelled.  She would get so incredibly frustrated and upset, but when she lost her cool, I never got a spanking(that was always my dad's job anyway) or a time out, or yelled at.  My mom would slink off to her bedroom, lock the door behind her, take her guitar from it's tattered black case, and belt out at the top of her lungs any song she could think of at the time.  She sang until she was no longer angry.  Sometimes it was only a song or two, other times, it was the rest of the day in the bedroom alone with her guitar singing until my dad got home.  I know my recollection of this time in my life may be different if told by one of my siblings, but I just remember sitting by the closed door listening in between songs of the tears and sobs of a mother who was just exhausted that day.  Who loved being a mom but just needed a little sanity which she got from strumming that old twelve string.  I think now of that time and remember almost wanting to get my mom going just so she would go belt out another tune.  She played the guitar for us as well, but it seemed in those time of true despair she would play even more beautifully and more meaningful with so much passion and desire.  Whether it was out of anger, pity, or depression I wish I would have learned to control my "exhaustion" with the same gusto and in a similar direction as my mom did.  She didn't do everything right, but she didn't do it so wrong either.  In lieu of Mother's day next month, I encourage everyone to tell their mom's how good they did even if they did bad.  I just hope and pray one day my kids can say this too me no matter how much I may screw up now.  And my hope extends to pure begging, "God please let my kids grow up okay."

I say all of this to say, I know I'm not the only mom to go to the bathroom to cry because of something my daughter said to hurt my feelings, I'm not the only mom to open the front door, kindly step outside and scream so loud the birds even flew away, and I'm not the only mom to think I maybe wasn't the best candidate to raise children.  No matter how many bad days I have, I try to keep them at a minimum(for the sake of my children's sanity, let alone mine) and make the good days better and the great days the best days my babies could ever have.  I am a good mom, but don't ask me.....I make mistakes, but I try not to hash out every detail on how stupid I handled a situation.  Instead, I learn from it(most of the time) and move on to one of those best days.

The life of a part-time single mom

My day started like most days. The pitter patter of a miniature size nine feet down the hallway to the darkest room in the house, my bedroom. Awaken by a simple, quiet, "mom it's time to wake up now," my three year old dashes out of my bedroom announcing, "I have to go potty momma," as I shift and arise to the side of my bed, legs not nearly long enough to allow my feet to hit the floor, I hear a faint laughter coming from a closed door down the hallway. As I barley get out of bed a door handle and a crash seconds later and I hear a giggle and one of the cutest greetings ever, "Hello handsome boy!" I believe without a shadow of a doubt my three year old daughter has just invited my son to be awake for the party I had no idea was going on. Still trying to get my thoughts together and ignore my very full blater, I mosey down the hall to have a smiling baby boy greet me from his crib which by now only has a sheet and mattress in it. I mindfully take him out of the crib before picking up his pillow, blankets and all stuffed toys that were thrown out. Yep, just another day. Dirty diapers, children being playful, rowdy, and loud. Would I want it any other way? A part time single mom's life.....
My husband has a job as a traveling fiberglass repair specialist. He leaves my children and I for usually two to six weeks at a time, traveling around the country to repair water slides. Most friends and family members say, "it could be worse, he could be over in Iraq for a year, think about that the next time you complain!" I completely respect all aspects of the military. However, they sign up knowing any day could be "their day" to leave their loved ones behind. My husband and I never signed up for that.
We wanted a life similar to Ozzy and Harriet. Go to work by 8 or 9am and home at 5pm for dinner by 530pm. Although that is not a valid picturesque thought for this moment in time, in society, I dream of that schedule for my family.
My day as a part time single mom never seems to just fly by. I can't imagine me time, let alone quiet time. Some days I just wish for a hot shower without an Innocent intruder watching. Between the children, dogs, and the terrible thoughts of burglars, or fire breaking out, there is always one eye opened, wishing to join the other in closing. The first time my husband left was only a week, just enough to get our "feet wet" if you will, to introduce this new way to earn a living. It was horrific! I literally only slept 28 hours out of the entire 7 days(or 168 hours) Alan was gone. I guess the average of 4 hours a night is very respectable considering all the times I was jolted awake by a dog scratching my face, the children crying, the sound of the refrigerator turning on, or the sound of the heat turning on. I really never understood how those sounds could be so surprising when only days earlier I hadn't known they existed. How odd that these sounds just appear when you are in a house with no heroic man to slay all of these dangerous things. Which by the way, my husband would be of no help if any or all of these things happened at one time even if he was home. He sleeps like he's dead. Just the thought of another adult though, next to you, even if only as body heat in my case, makes you sleep more restful. The week dragged on sleep deprived, and completely overwhelmed. By the end of the week however, it almost seemed like a relationship refreshing. It seemed like we meant to be apart, so when we were reunited again, our love was stronger and more passionate than before. The children seemed to love their daddy even more. My husband returned home and all was placed back to our somewhat steady, "normal" lives.
That was short lived. Two weeks later my husband was on his way again. This time for a whopping 17 days. Could I handle all the pressures of home life by myself for 17days, which also included raising a 3 year old and an 18month old? I had to be up for the challenge. No one else was going to take my place.
The first week Alan was gone was similar to a toddler taking a few steps, falling, having to go to bed, and waking up trying to remember how to walk again. Coffee became my best friend! It was a little easier knowing I had to be mom and dad, but only for a short time. Knowing he was coming home in only 17 days was relief. The kids and I counted down the days and nights together. Week one, over. The start of the second week was a little more rocky. A tearful phone call of I miss yous was more than heart breaking. So, I, being the fly by the seat of my pants kind of girl, decided in a mere two hours to register for a hotel room minutes from my husbands job site, packing and setting an alarm for 3am to travel with two small children some eleven hours by van away. I am crazy! I think the first 3 hours of the trip I was actually still sleeping. I stopped off for a 20minute snooze, only to be unkindly startled by my son throwing his pacifier at my head. The children whom I had taken from their cozy beds at 330am to their cold uncomfortable car seats had both woken up needing food and bathrooms. Thank god my babies are awesome travelers, if they weren't I would not have even attempted that long of a trip on such wee ones. They were going to be awake for the remainder of the trip so luckily I had thought ahead and packed obnoxious amounts of snacks, drinks, toys, books, and movies for the DVD player. 8 Hours later we arrived safely to our destination. My children were ecstatic to see daddy, and mommy was too! Because of the weather Alan was able to have a "rain day" which meant a day off, just to spend time with us. We went to some local attractions, swam in the swimming pool at the hotel and went out for dinner. The day was gone in an instant and me and my babies were saying goodbye and were back in the van a mere 48 hours from when we had left home, to get back home. Again I woke up at 3am, quietly packed the van and the children, said one last goodbye and drove back the eleven hours home. It was more than worth spending a day with my husband being a family. The kids loved the reward they received for being such great travelers. A day with their daddy in another state, miles from home and a story I will never forget.
All this to say, I have so much more respect for full time single moms, military personnel on leave with children back at home, and my husband. With the ever changing economy, he was able to be morphed into a more usable employee so he could keep money in our bank account. However, I would trade being a part time single parent any day to have my husband work closer to home.

I joined the blogger phenomenon.....now what?

My name is Misty Rain.  That's not just a cool pen name, it happens to be my birth given name.  I have a true passion for writing.  I was the type of person however, who in the "Game of Life," wanted to start a career, not go to college.  With that "career" came a husband, a household to run and then eventually a full fledged American dream with 2 children, 2 dogs and our fish named Bob. Shame on me.  I should have went to be a writing and English major.  I enjoy the written word.  It's like a dance between your tongue, vocal cords, and your brain.  It's mesmerizing.  Words are not necessarily my life, but I do love to tell stories and allow people to laugh through my writing. 
My idea for this blog is to tell stories of mommy triumphs and pitfalls, love and general family life in a way most people will be able to relate.  If you are single and hoping for children one day, or a family girl like me, let this be a fun way to read about life in an adventurous, yet hysterical way to prepare you for what may lie ahead.
I have no college background, so I will take this one time opportunity to apologize now for all grammatical errors and typos.  Thank you.
I will begin this blog as a weekly post.  If hard to resist stories arise along the week I may be inclined to add it to the list!  I hope you will enjoy.  Happy reading :)