Mother Victimhood and Perspective

 Dear Kids, 

It was just a regular Sunday, but man, my emotions have been a bit crazy. I was laying in bed after dropping off Gabe to an early morning priesthood meeting and was falling back asleep while snuggling your dad. Next thing I knew, Joshua was climbing into bed and saying, "Mom! I need to get dressed! Will you help me?"

I asked him to go ask Talia for help.

"No! I want you."

I asked him to wait for just a couple of minutes.

"No! I want you."

I groaned and felt sorry for myself that he wasn't asking Brent for help. Just then Brent leaned over and said, "Joshua, buddy, mom's tired. Can you wait?"

"No! I need her!"

I took a deep breath, got up, and go started with my day. All while your dad was able to stay in bed a little longer... And I was mad at him for it! haha! I was mad that it was me that was always being asked for help. That it's me that's always being tugged on. It's always the mom. 

It took me some time, but I eventually jumped out of my mother-victimhood and got back to work, mainly in my mind. Then was able to make it to church, take the sacrament, ask for forgiveness, feel the spirit, have a great relief society lesson on motherhood (go figure... there are no accidents) and then come back home. 

Now that my head is wrapped around my emotions better I can look at this very small part of my morning, something that happens EVERY MORNING (Kids coming to get me out of bed) and I can love it. I can look at it with a good heart and appreciate that my kids are still little and want me in their lives. There were a lot of women there who were empty nesters, all of them would give their left arm to have one of those days when their kids only want THEM and no one else anymore. 

This time with you is fleeting. I only have so much time with you to be under my wings. I absolutely do my best, but I have moments that I just feel like I want a moment alone. It was a good reminder today to cherish the moments. Even when I don't want to get out of bed.

I love you kids. 

Your Mom