Mama said there'd be days like this.
Or did she? All I can remember is watching my parents struggle. Being reminded by my dad every day why it's important to love my grandparents. Being reminded every day about the hard work it took to purchase the matchbox 3 bedroom 2 bathroom house on Schnebelen Ave in South River Oaks. There were goods and bads, but I really think the points that stuck were the concepts of "you do what you gotta do to get what you need" and "nothing is strong enough to stand in your way if you want it bad enough."
The holidays are approaching, and it is my favorite time of year. But parenting is hard. Exhausting even. Being married is a daily lesson. And carrying this 4th baby gave way to some hormones that sent me from mother Mary to Godzilla in a matter of 14 seconds this morning. I have slaved over the boys' routines each morning, knowing that the preparation and frustration will pay off once Baby 4 is here and they will know how to survive in their morning routines. But damn. Today, everything hit the fan, and I'm so glad Derrius Guice the elf didn't happen to be stationed up there.
Bk3 and Briggs finished their breakfast and retreated to the couch where I lay out each boy's clothing. Of course, within far enough distance from one another to where they can sit without being bothered. BK3 decided he wasn't happy with his particular location and although I was in my room for 4 minutes to strap on my belly belt, compression stockings, and daily wear, I could hear the two of them arguing over location. But see, we are on a schedule. And I need WWE to take the back burner until AFTER school. I'm yelling from the back but nothing stops Briggs from launching Bk3's uniform across the living room, which in turn calls for BK3 to pounce and start the showdown. We are 26 minutes away from departure time, and I need everyone to focus. Meanwhile, Grayson is still eating at the speed of a sloth, picking every marshmallow out of his lucky charms before moving onto his star wars go-gurt, again, at the speed of a sloth. My words to bk3 were "You do NOT rule this house." to which he responded, "I think I do."
Pause. Deep breaths, Carrie. You're 32 weeks pregnant..
I sent him to the foot of the stairs to sit and wait for my approval to get in the car for school. I threw his "blankie" across the room which did the trick of getting his attention, and told him I didn't want his help unloading the dishwasher (like his Daddy had asked him to do as they started breakfast at 6 am). I said a few more choice sentences that came from the exhaustion inside, and the room went silent. Thank God I was dressed before the madness happened. For the first time in his short life, Grayson cleared the table of every food item/plate/utensil and made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth then get dressed. I guess he knew I meant business.
I went to unload and re-load the dishwasher...and cried.
In that instant, I knew that it was a tough moment. But one we all have time and time again. Whether we are mamas, wives, daughters, businesswomen, friends, or anything. Because we are human. Our children are humans, and it is our job to teach them. We are also humans, and it is in our cards to mess up in the process. If we don't remember that our God loves us so unconditionally to offer His only Son... then how do we expect a re-do each day? It is my clutch. I know that our marriage is full of lessons to be learned daily. I know that my children will see me fail, just as I saw my parents make their way through struggles. In that moment where I fought back every tear I could as I unloaded spoons and forks, Briggs thought of 42 different questions he could ask me. From "What college did Drew Brees play for?" to "Can I please touch the elf?" to "How old will I be when you go to Heaven?" I know he was just engaging with me, because he loves me. No matter how much their fighting with one another makes me feel.
As always, we loaded into the car, got ourselves onto Florida blvd and we would be fine. I took the time in the car to TRY to explain why mommy is so tired. I continued to smooth out the cracking in my voice as I got the boys to understand why I can't bend over as much. Why I shouldn't yell as much. Why they should be making the mornings easy for me, instead of harder. But of course, they have no idea what delivering a baby entails and now is surely not the time! Between the 4 of us, it was understood that we will try harder today and every day. I knew that was for me, especially. No matter how tired and exhausted. No matter how frustrated. No matter how ignored my small acts feel. I will be his wife. I will be their mama. I will be God's servant. Because no morning episode or daily struggle can measure as a fraction of the life Jesus gave for me.
I gave Bk3 a fist bump as he stepped out the car, trusting that when I see him almost 24 hours later, my renewed mind-set will be the first thing he wakes up to... I rounded the corner to head to school #2 carpool and sat in line as we waited for 8 am to arrive. Still answering every one of those questions from Briggsy. Thankful, because I know one day, a moody teenager Briggsy may want nothing to do with "mama's answers." I noticed there's no booksack. And it's show-n-tell day for Briggs. Grayson of course stayed on track to make sure he had his at his feet.
I'm thankful Briggs withheld his temper tantrum. Instead, he took a deep breath and said "Maybe Ms. Blair will let me do my show-n-tell tomorrow." Yes Briggs, maybe she will. Because your booksack is your responsibility, and you'll have to do life without it today. I almost cried again. I'm sure there's some bit of my Dad behind those stern mom moments. But again, we're humans. He did just fine. And so did I.
Today, I learned that if I forget my strength, forget my booksack, forget my sanity - it's ok. God promises us a re-do. Today's was minute compared to what is in store for us as a family. Trusting in the small struggles helps me to feel secure in the big unknowns that plague us all. God's got our backs. With or without the booksack...
