Motherhood. It ain’t easy! And just when I think I’ve got everything under control, someone pukes in the car. It’s always something.
This past Spring Break, I was killing it! I took the kids to our favorite indoor play space, we baked, I made homemade play dough, and I even got caught up on some work and cleaned out our playroom. The kids helped, too! What!? I was the kind of mom that I always strive to be. I mean, I must be doing something right if my house is clean and my children behave.
But as we know, nothing good ever lasts long. On one of our final vacation days, we took a trip to the movies—two full hours of quiet. My little guy even fell asleep.
I glanced over at my other two, quietly eating their popcorn, and actually smiled at how relaxed I felt. Honestly, it was a strange feeling.
However, once we were in the car, just about to get on the highway, I glanced in my review and saw the little one gagging…and then projectile vomiting. Popcorn chunks everywhere. Gross!
I am not one of those people who react well in emergencies. I tend to freeze up. Luckily, I was able to pull into a gas station and semi-clean him and the car seat between his cries. Thankfully, I had a full package of baby wipes in my purse and a change of clothes and blankets in my trunk. Unfortunately, we didn’t make it home without stopping two more times on the side of the road. (Thank you to the kind woman who pulled over to help while cars sped past!).
I gripped the steering wheel the whole way home with my heart racing.
Is this a stomach bug, or did he eat too much? Are the other two going to get sick? Are we going to have to cancel our trip to NYC tomorrow? Should I throw out all the clothes? Did I leave the laundry in the washing machine before we left? Oh, I forgot to call the maintenance guy for the dryer…
All that stress that I had been able to suppress for the past three days—yup, it was back in full force. My mind started wandering, and I started questioning everything.
Once I got my little guy home, cleaned up, and safely put him in bed (with a puke bowl right next to him), I took a moment to reflect. I could hear the other two screaming at each other—probably fighting over a toy they hadn’t played with in months.
The tears just came pouring out, and the only way I could get them to stop was to think that no matter what, there is always something.
People get sick.
Flat tires happen.
Arguments and misunderstandings occur.
Things get lost.
Work deadlines creep up.
Shit happens.
There is always going to be something to cause me stress and anxiety. In between the chaos, I need to learn to truly enjoy those pure moments of happiness.
That mom I want to be doesn’t exist, but the mom who takes each day one at a time does. She needs to be reminded of this now and again.
I never know what the day will bring, but I do know that I love my kids and do the best I can, given the circumstances—good or bad.
