Your Job is Never Done....

I miss being a mother.  I'm still a mother, but I miss mothering.  Nurturing someone small and innocent.  I worked with children in crisis this past year.  It gave me the fix I needed, feeling a little person love on you because they needed a squeeze.  I miss the little sticky smooches on the cheek that only a child can give.  I miss the chubby fingers wanting to hold your hand, the little head that leans against you when they are tired.  Bath time.  The smell of a freshly bathed child, sweet, shiney and cherubic.  Saying prayers at night while they ask God to forgive them for hitting their sister.  God I really miss all of that. 

I miss my children being five and having the funniest things to say out loud, in public, in front of strangers.  Inappropriate questions when you least expect them.  I had my kids so close together.  I was always so  busy just trying to keep up on the laundry, feeding them, changing diapers, making sure one didn't hurt the other, keeping the chaos to a controllable level.  I miss those children.  I feel like those years flew by so quick.  I remember once my mother in law telling me to 'enjoy them now, they grow up so quickly.'  They did and I have forgotten many moments that were probably really important to remember.

I was a young mother.  I had my first child at 20 and my last at 25.  Four kids in five years.  Brutal.  How do you take the time to enjoy each child when there is so much to do 18 hours a day?  You live for nap time when you can get all four down at the same time.  Meal preparation was a whole animal of it's own.  Children trying to "help" when you really just want to efficiently do it yourself so you might have 10 minutes before dinner to read a story to them.  My life was all about getting through another day.  How did I do it?  I have no idea.  Those years are a blur.  But I can tell you that when I see a young mother wrangling four children through a grocery store or a mall, my heart goes out to her.  For some reason, those of us who belong to the four or more club, seem to have never heard of the words "Birth Control" and certainly "Family Planning" was not something we thought much about, thus it seems, these mothers have children that appear stair-stepped...one after another...just like I did it.

I love each of my kids for all of their uniqueness.  I get along with all of them mostly on any given day.  But like other people in your life, they can annoy you, do things you don't approve of, hurt your feelings, anger you.  When I was growing up, I was always seeking my father's approval.  I don't remember him being all that interested in our lives.  He was distant, even resentful of our intrusion into his free time.  I don't ever remember as a child my dad hugging me.  I remember he always came in and kissed me goodnight, turning his face so I could kiss his cheek.  I remember always saying "I love you daddy" every night, while he responded "I love you too Tam..."  But hugging was not something he did.

I used to love to hold my children.  To feel their little warm bodies snuggle into mine.  Skin contact.  The smell of their hair, their breath.  I always hugged my kids.  My youngest had a little strawberry mark on the back of her neck, I always told her it was her "kissy spot".  Each of my kids had a piece of my heart that was uniquely theirs.  I remember different things about them all.  I miss the little people they were.  I hate watching family videos, because it only reminds me of the years I forgot to remember about them.

 I spent days, months, years, thinking that it would never get easier.  Wishing for the day they were crawling, walking, talking, out of diapers, feeding themselves, going to school, driving themselves...all milestones that passed very fast.  I feel as if I wished their life away.  Always looking for the next first...I have two children married.  Two with significant others.  They all grew up.  My life revolved around them and now, they have lives of their own and I am not  mothering them anymore.  As they started to leave the nest, people would ask me if I was having "empty nest syndrome."  "Of course not!  Are you crazy?" I would exclaim!  I have been waiting for this moment forever.  Waiting for the day when my life would be mine again.  Waiting for days when I could sit on the couch and read all day if I wanted to.  Waiting for the day that I could stay out late and not worry about how tired I was the next day because I could sleep in.  Waiting for the day when I could eat what I wanted, when I wanted, waiting for the day...The day arrived and I miss the craziness.  I never thought I would say it...I miss them needing me.

It seemed to me that all of my kids left at once.  When you have four kids so close together, that would be the cycle.  Three of them came back twice after moving out, only to drive their dad and I to complete insanity.   There is nothing worse than an adult child moving back into your home after they have moved out once before.  Trust me on this.  The first few years of having no teenagers at home seemed novel.  Fun.  My house for the first time in 20 some years, was clean.  All the time.  When the holidays rolled around and the kids were all home in the house at the same time, it was back to the chaos and I was always happy when it was time for them to go to their own house again.  Whenever we took our grown, adult children on vacation, it was amazing the first 4 days.  Then as the vacation stretched in 5 days, 6 days, 10 days....they would revert back to the roles and birth order they had as kids.  Fighting, yelling at each other, not speaking, ganging up on one or the other.  Asking me to mediate.  Throw alcohol in this mix and it's not fun.  Every time, I would say...never again.  But of course, we did.  We loved our family together.  We were close.  All of us.  In any given month, year, each sibling was close to one or the other more than the rest.  But mostly, we just loved each other.  We laughed together.  We poked fun of each other.  We were the ideal family.  My kids' friends envied our family.

My kids are struggling with the idea, with the thought of never having this again.  I am struggling with it.  I am overcome with emotion when I contemplate the future of what my family unit will look like now.  I felt as if I lost the years of their childhood because I was so busy just going through the motions of our daily life.  Now I wonder if I have lost the history of our family to blaze my own trail.   Am I being selfish?  I dedicated my life to mothering my children.  I was so fiercely protective, teaching them to protect each other, pounding it into their heads to watch out for each other, love each other, lean on each other.   An inner circle.  Trust in family.

Have I betrayed their trust in what the meaning of a family unit is?  I never prepared them for this moment when I didn't want to be married to their dad any longer.  They feel mislead.  I let them down.  They won't say it, but now they need me more than ever.  They need me to teach them a new way of being a family.  Just like when I was a young mother, navigating my way through un-chartered territory of responsibility, I am trying to figure it out again.  Faking it till I make it.  I ran away from my sorrow and they are confused, angry, hurt and sad.  I have always wanted to be a good mother.  I didn't always do the right thing by them, but I did what I knew how to do at the time I was doing it, and it wasn't always the right thing.  I am trying to do the right thing for me, but in doing that, I screwed up and hurt them.

I have had the thought that maybe if my kids had had children quickly, like I did, I might have stayed in my marriage.  Kids masked the problems that were there, because you just don't have the time to look at them, let alone deal with them when there are so many other things you have to do.  But, I'm glad they don't have kids yet.  I'm in no shape to be a grandma right now.  But someday, I will embrace it, because I truly believe that grandchildren are God's way of turning your mistakes with your kids around.

I am going back for Christmas to make amends.  I will come back to Arizona afterward to tie up some loose ends and then I will go back to Washington to be there for them for a while.  Not forever, not six months, but for a few weeks.  My children need me right now to do the right thing.  To help them through this time of sorrow.  They need to forgive me and I need to hug them.  To touch their cheeks and reassure them that I love them.  To comfort them and show them a new way of being a family.  As a mother, your job is never done.  I'm living proof.  My mom is still mothering me.  Guiding me.  Loving me.  Little kids, little problems, big kids, big problems.  I'm kinda the problem child right now.  I think it's my brother's turn soon.