Patience is a Virtue (or so I've been told...)

Breathe in.  Breathe out.

Find your happy place.  

100...99...98...97...

Oh, I'm sorry!  I didn't see you there.  I was just in the middle of trying to not completely lose my mind.  Or my temper.  Because I've already lost my patience for the day, and I really hope I can find it before dinner time rolls around.

I don't know about you, but I've been struggling a lot lately with being patient.  I wake up every morning thinking "This is it.  This is the day.  Today is going to be different.  I am making a choice to be patient."

And then my kids wake up.

And while I'm still talking myself into a lovely little patience-induced coma, somehow the living room is already trashed, I've made them breakfast which they've only picked at, my formerly somewhat picked up kitchen is now just a pile of dirty dishes, crumbs and half-open boxes of toaster waffles and yogurt containers, and my children have found some earth-shattering, life-changing issue to argue about.  Like who got the yellow cup.  Or whose feet are touching whose chair.  I'm talking serious dilemmas here, people.

Needless to say, I've been feeling like I need a little help to replenish the ol' patience supply here.

Can I Get a Vitamin for That?
I'm all about those lovely prenatal vitamins you choke down during your pregnancy.  (I mean, sure, I felt like I was burping vitamin breath for 3 hours after I took them, but my hair and nails have never grown so much in all my life.)  Prenatal vitamins work wonders and give that little tiny baby growing in your belly everything he or she needs, and help Moms out with all that nutrient business, too.  But what about after that sweet little bundle arrives?  Don't Moms still need, no deserve, some continued help?

I propose this:  Postnatal vitamins.

You would begin taking these postnatal vitamins as soon as Baby arrives, and well, for the rest of your life.  They would continue to make your hair and nails grow at an astonishing rate, but that's not all.  They would (get ready for this...you may want to sit down...) grow your ability to be patient by leaps and bounds.  

You would also be able to sign up for a booster pack when each of your children turn 3, and then again when they turn 13.  And again at 23, as needed, if they move back home.  

Just a thought.  Anyone out there with me?

Real, Not Perfect
I don't mean this post to be a huge "whine fest."  Really, I don't.  (OK, it may contain a little venting.  Which is a second cousin to whining.  Dangerous, I know.)  I simply want it to be real.  And this is where I've been this week, struggling with being patient.  I love my children dearly.  That has never been in question for even a second.  I love them beyond measure, and cherish the minutes and hours and days I have with them.  

But sometimes, if I have to ask them one more time to put their shoes on or explain why they need to pick up the pain-inducing Legos spread across their bedrooms, I feel like I'm going to lose my mind.  

I'm learning it's not just one thing that sucks up all my patience.  It's all the little tiny things that each chip away at my patience little by little, bit by bit, day after day, until poof!, my son dumps an entire container of season salt on his zucchini after I've told him we need to do it together and it's like my world is ending in that moment.  Oh no!  Not the precious $3.95 bottle of season salt or 4 bites of zucchini that have been ruined! Whatever shall we do!  There is clearly no coming back from this catastrophe.  

In these moments (well, it's usually after these moments) I have to remind myself of a few things.  

I am not perfect.  I am human.  

My kids are not perfect.  They are human.  

While I am certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, our family is not perfect, I am also certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, of this: We are real.  And honestly, I wouldn't want it any other way.  I don't want to waste precious time with them trying for any of us to be "perfect."  I would so much rather soak up the time we have with each other, all the while being real and imperfect and learning how to do life together.

And sometimes being real means acknowledging when my patience is running low.

So yes, sometimes I find myself apologizing to my kids for using "strong words" (raising my voice).  And yes, sometimes I find myself having to share my feelings about why I felt upset or frustrated when I've asked them for the fifth time to brush their teeth and haven't gotten so much as a response, let alone anything that resembles toothbrushing.  And yes, sometimes we all need to go to our rooms for a little extra quiet time, Mom included, so we can take a second to calm down.

I am not perfect.  I am human.

My kids are not perfect.  They are human.

My hope is that from all my imperfection, they are learning it is OK to be real, to be human themselves.  I hope they are learning how important it is to share how they feel, to apologize, and to make things right when they've done something they wish they hadn't.  

Not Everything You See and Hear is "Real"
All around us, we see images on diapers boxes of Moms of newborns peacefully holding their sleeping child, all the while looking radiant and glowing and well-rested, for crying out loud.  We see commercials with toddlers smiling and laughing while reading books and playing soccer with their smiling and laughing parents.  We see Pinterest posts about school age kids happily baking organic muffins or making their own clothes or building something out of pallets with Mom or Dad by their side.  We see Facebook posts about all the amazing things parents are doing with their amazing kids, and it's like you can just feel the patience and "perfectness" oozing out of them.  

It's not to say that these things aren't wonderful and aren't part of parenting, because they are.  They do exist every now and again and we should enjoy and celebrate them when they happen for us.  

But that's not the day in, day out part of parenting.  That's not the "real" part of parenting we come up against in our most difficult moments.  There are parts of parenting when we struggle to be patient.  When we try to dig into our patience reserves, but find them empty.  When we need to take a step back or lean on others to help us get through a day, an hour, a moment.

I guess all this rambling just to say this...if you find yourself taking lots of deep breaths or trying to find your happy place or counting backward from 100, know you are not alone.  Don't beat yourself up if you've been "human" in any given situation; if you've reacted differently than your "this is exactly how I'm going to parent" before-you-actually-had-kids-self had planned out how you would react.  

Be kind to yourself.  Extend grace to yourself.  If you need to, make amends with whoever you need to, even if that means making amends with your kids.  It doesn't make you any less of a parent.  It makes you more of one.  

Whether it is a day filled with an abundance of patience, or you feel like you're running on your last ounce of patience, You Are a Good Mom.  Hang in there.  Tomorrow is a new day.  You will get another chance to wake up and say "Today, I will be patient."  You will get another chance to make it happen.  And who knows?  The FDA may be close to approving that postnatal vitamin any day now.  

*******************************************************************************************************

If you haven't already, be sure to stop by and check out the "You're a Good Mom" page on Facebook.  "Like" it and any new blog posts will be delivered right to your news feed!  Thanks!

In the Trenches

I was the most amazingly incredible Mom...

...and then I actually had kids.

Prior to actually being a Mom, I knew exactly how to be an amazingly incredible Mom.  I had everything worked out.  My kids would always be calm and polite, be served only the healthiest of meals, respond positively and thankfully to all of the parental wisdom I would impart on them, and most definitely never throw a tantrum in a public place.  If I ever was going to write a book, I should have done it before having kids because I had all the answers then.  It was so very easy when everything was hypothetical, and the children I was "raising" were imaginary.  

And then I had real, live children I was really responsible for living in my house.  All the time.  And all of those "answers" went out the window.  

I was now "in the trenches."

I love this sentiment, as it was so beautifully and genuinely illustrated in one of my all-time favorite shows, Parenthood.  We started watching it OnDemand shortly after my daughter was born.  I think it is the only show I can honestly say that I've seen every single episode of.  I could write an entire post (or two or three...) about how much I love it -- the dialogue, the acting, the storylines -- but I will cut it short here.  If you don't watch it, you need to.  Google it.  Start watching it online.  Like right now...this post will be here when you get back, I promise.

The "in the trenches" line comes up in one of my very favorite honest mom-to-mom parenting scenes.  I'll paraphrase, which is a horrible, horrible injustice to the show.  (For real, you need to watch it.)  Anyway, here's my weak attempt to relay a quick summary of the scene.

Julia comes to Kristina and is seeking advice on how to help motivate her son to do his homework.  You're expecting to be privy to this insightful, deep, philosophical wise parenting conversation that is about to occur between sister and sister-in-law.  The next thing you see is Kristina ducking below her kitchen counter and pulling up a huge tub, full of containers of all shapes and sizes filled with candy.  The conversation goes something like this... 

"Two words: incentive system.  Homework done?   Five gummy bears.  Room picked up?  Two Twizzlers.  Trash out?  Six M & Ms.  And don't you feel guilty.  Don't you feel guilty for one second.  You are in the trenches.  You gotta do what you gotta do."

The thing I love about this scene is how it sums up how we all have these things that we never, ever though we'd ever do as parents.  Why?  Because our hypothetical, imaginary children would never (fill in the blank).    

Sorry to say, but oh yes they will.  And then some.  Any my kids are still little...yikes...

And you will pull your hair out trying to figure out what to do.  When you are in the trenches, all bets are off.  You just have to figure out what works best for you and your child and your family in that moment, and sometimes that means compromising your previously "perfect" parent ideals.  

Don't you feel guilty.  Not for one second.  You are in the trenches.

Ultimately, whatever decision you make and whatever course of action you take is coming from a place of love.  That is what really matters.  We are so hard on ourselves and put so much pressure on ourselves to do "the right thing," somehow thinking there is only one "right thing."  The truth is, every child, every parent, every situation is different.  There are a million and one different "right things."  

The person in the checkout line giving you a dirty look as your child starts whining and crying and you frantically look for Goldfish Crackers in your diaper bag has no idea what your day has been like up to that point.  Don't you feel guilty.  Not for one second.  You are in the trenches.  

The person at the playground who looks at you condescendingly as you pick up the pacifier off the ground, wipe it off and hand it to your kiddo is not in charge of your child's health and well-being.  Don't you feel guilty.  Not for one second.  You are in the trenches.  

The person who rolls their eyes as you try to calm and quiet your crying baby at church with every toy, gadget, and set of car keys that are now being shoved in baby's mouth doesn't have any idea how much it took to get everyone up and out the door that morning.  Don't you feel guilty.  Not for one second.  You are in the trenches.  

You are in the trenches, day in and day out, and you are doing an amazingly incredible job.  You are not perfect.  You are not supposed to be.  That went out the window the second that child came into your life.  Where is the fun in that, anyway?  Given the choice of perfect parenting ideals or being in the trenches, I'll take trenches with my family every single time.  

Trust yourself; trust your decisions.  Don't you feel guilty.  Not for one second.  You Are a Good Mom.