The Grass Is The Same Color

People tell me all the time, 

You are so strong. I just don’t know how you do it. 

I have a hard time and I am not dealing with even half of what you are. 

I understand why they say it and I appreciate the encouragement. What I want to say though, is that I am not really that strong. I definitely have to fight harder and work more purposefully at parenting than I ever have, but being a mom is hard no matter what. I remember being a “typical mom”. It wasn’t that long ago that I was screaming at my two "normal" kids, crying to my husband, and praying for God to have mercy on me. What I am trying to say is that I feel like I’ve been on both sides of the fence now and would like to announce that the grass is the same color. Motherhood is beautiful and rewarding, but it can be CA-RAZY! Maybe you feel guilty for feeling exhausted when someone else has it worse, but there is always someone worse off than you. Believe me I know. I’ve met them and I’ve been them. I don't care if you have boys, girls, one child or ten. Chaos is chaos. Thank you to everyone that thinks I am supermom, but don't short change yourself either.

I’ve had 3 babies without any medication. It’s not the most excruciating circumstance I’ve gone through, but to avoid going into to details about having Montezuma's revenge in Mexico and literally thinking I was on a sweaty death bed, let’s stick with the child birth analogy. So I’ve had a baby and I know child birth is painful, however when I stub my toe I say ouch (or whatever). I may jump up and down and grab my foot, or bite my lip, and then I move on. I do not however start to say ouch and interrupt myself by saying “PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER WOMAN, you’ve had a baby. This is nothing.” Some pain is worse than others, but that doesn't mean it's not pain. I’ve written about this before. See my post about when I accidentally killed my baby chick. 

I am preaching to myself here because even with all we've been through this past year I have heard some stories that make mine look like a cake walk and I am inclined to scold myself for ever even feeling tired or sad. I am now giving myself permission to stop and I am giving you permission to stop too. Go ahead and feel sorry for yourself. Not too much, but enough to cry, or  just admit that it’s hard and ask for help when you need to. It’s dang hard sometimes. In fact in some aspects I have it easier now than I did before because I have an excuse. There are many layers to a story, but without getting too analytical chaos is chaos, pain is pain, and we all get weary sometimes.