I’ve been waiting for the time to be right, hoping that I would know with unequivocal clarity. Hoping that I would make it, to be the best mom ever for my babes. To be the Supermom that they deserve. At the end of each day I sit, hoping that the next one will be better. I mistakes constantly. I pray that my children are strong enough not to be scarred by me, since I know that there is no way around them being hurt. I’m just not perfect.
I fold laundry at 2am, I do dished a 4am ever so quietly, hoping not to wake the locals. Then I sleep till 10am because I pushed too hard and my body isn’t what it used to be. So I feed them whatever I can get my hands on, and don’t make dinner until the last minute so the kitchen is a mess. Because I have to make everything from scratch. We have various food allergies and housing upheaval. I have fibromyalgia, a herniated disk, a para-esophageal hernia that is going to require major surgery in a few weeks… A whole pot of crazy going on.
I spend my days trying to school them. I love these days, but they don’t feel like enough for them, around my health and other needs. Each and every day I wonder if school would be better. Not that I feel like a failure, but the thought is just always there. I am very aware that there are ways that school would NOT be successful, but then I worry about my inability to hold to structure and how it is affecting them.
My children are brilliant, and inspiring! Says-every-mom-ever. And I mean it! They amaze me even more than they concern me. We are in a season of complete upheaval with construction on our home, changing our family budget, and getting health stuff taken care of.
One big change for our family happened about a month ago when we did send one of the babes back to school. Over December we thought and prayed a lot about it. It basically came down to this. Lucas needs clear structure and routine. I am not very successful at either. Lucas needs a full evaluation for insurance to pay for his therapy needs for Asperger Syndrome. Insurance does not cover the evaluation which is anywhere between $2500 and $5000. In public school he can be evaluated for free and provided the structure and support he needs. Sounds like the perfect answer!!
It was still hard. So, so hard. Lucas is the one I always keep with me. Mostly because he’s so much for other people to handle. So dropping him off for others to care was overwhelming. The school staff spent several hours over 2 weeks with us, in preparation for bringing Lucas in. They were wonderful. We went over his need for support in the bathroom, and talked about his Sensory Processing Disorder. Because of his SPD, he is likely to be in pullups until he is 10-12. The created a special plan and routine for him, based on what we suggested, with supervised bathroom visits and help with accidents. Their attention to detail for his needs was such a relief. In his 504 plan for special needs, they also allowed him to have his chew necklace, wiggle seat and fidget toys.
Lucas has been there for a month now, and he is thriving. For the first time! I can say he is thriving!! We still pick him up every Tuesday and take him to his OT appointments and he is in the middle of the evaluation process. In spite of my fears, it was absolutely what he needed.
Things come up with each of our children where we have to re-evaluate what we do. We have to look at their needs. We put them above ours, and even above our ideals. We shift those ideals, as each process with our children changes the shape of our parenting; changes the priorities we thought we knew were “utmost” ten years ago.
I absolutely, despise the question “How do you do it all?” Actually, even more than I despise the movie. The question is lame. No one really wants an answer. What they really mean is that you just have too much, way more than they would ever want. And it implies that they really have a clear preference for their own life. Well, touche. I prefer mine.
The truth is that NONE of us do it all. We choose in the moment, we grow with their needs. We stretch the muscle of our heart, the tissues of our brains… and they both ache and quake through the process. We don’t do it all. Ever. No one does. Wed on’t have to. We just have to do today.
I caught myself waiting again. Waiting for something that will never happen. Something that doesn’t exist. There is no Supermom. I will never be her, and neither will you. We have no cape and no need for one. Who we are is who we are meant to be, and it is what our children need. I mean, Edna said it and I agree.
Join me in putting the cape envy away. Let’s put down our list of expectation. Of what we would look like if we were Supermoms.
The next few months look like climbing Mount Everest to me, and I don’t know how to do it. I just know, without a shadow of a doubt, that this sweet family of mine will make it to the other side… regardless of my lack of cape.