Being a mom is tough. I don’t care if you have one child or six children. The minute that little stick turns pink, you begin to question everything you’ve ever believed and wonder how you’ll ever know all the right answers.
When the kids are babies, a mom’s life revolves around keeping them away from germs, potty training, ensuring their safety and praying for a full nights sleep. You often think you have no idea what you are doing and if you are doing it right.
As the kids get older, a mom’s life revolves around homework, sports, teacher conferences and praying for a full nights sleep. You often think you have no idea what you are doing and if you are doing it right.
Then the teen years hit and a mom’s life revolves around drivers licenses, girlfriends, ensuring their safety from drugs/alcohol/sex and praying for a full nights sleep. You are often told you have no idea what you are doing and you are definitely not doing it right.
But sometimes, once in awhile, when you least expect it, a mom gets a sign that she is doing something right.
This has been a rough summer for our family. The summer began with kid number 3 falling and breaking three bones in his leg and requiring surgery and traction. I sat at the hospital with him the night of the accident for almost 18 hours. At 4am I was getting texts from his two older brothers asking if he was ok. When we got home, each of the kids went out of their way to help their brother in any way he needed. Their concern was genuine.
But alas, all good things come to an end. Eventually the sibling rivalry and bickering returned and things were back to normal. What kind of mother am I that my kids can’t walk into a room without picking on each other?
The summer ended with kid number 5 falling and breaking his arm. Again, another all night hospital stay and text messages from concerned siblings. The next morning as the other kids got up for school, they each tip toed into the bedroom to take a peek at their brother, see how big his cast was, and make sure for themselves he was ok.
Again, the novelty wore off and his sling became a weapon and jumping on the trampoline became a way to tease him knowing he wasn’t allowed up there. What kind of a mother am I that my kids think it’s funny to write “get better butt head” on their brother’s cast?
And then, on a a typical night when I was over tired, over stressed and had reached my limit with everyone, I got it. I got my sign that I was doing something right and I was raising decent human beings.
I picked up a piece of paper and almost didn’t look at it before I threw it away. I’m so glad I did. What I had found was a letter my 9-year old had written to her broken-armed brother. It was written in different colored ink and decorated with peace signs.
I’m keeping the letter and I plan to pull it out any time I need a reminder that even though I don’t always know what I’m doing or if I’m doing it right, well, sometimes I am.
(Spelling and grammar are exactly the precious way it was written)
When I heard you scream I started to run over to the playground where you were. At first I thought it was a bee sting but when I saw your arm I just new it was broken and I got really scared cause they had to call the ambulance and trust me I think they are scarey especially with a IV, WOW.
When I saw you the next morning with a broken arm I was sad. I told your friend Kimo and I wish you didn’t break your arm when we were on a walk I was bored cause you wernt there.
So I hope you get better soon as possible. GET WELL.
PS I hope you like the colors.
PS I hope you like the colors.