If you peeked inside my life this morning, you would have found me sitting on the floor in the bathroom, crying and shaking my fist at God. "If children are a blessing from You, Lord, then these kids aren't meant to be smart and successful. That, or this whole blessing thing is a sham and I'm a fool to believe that I'm called to have a large family! What am I thinking having a bunch of kids I can't properly educate or even potty train?"
Shall we go back in time to see how I got to this point? Why, of course! Let's start at about 3:00 yesterday afternoon.
I met another homeschooling mom at the YMCA. We've chatted a few times
and I sent her a friend request on Facebook, which she quickly
accepted. Her daughter was working on her spelling during Fiona and
Daniel's PE class. She was spelling words like "petrified." Thinking
about what awful spellers my kids are, I asked what grade she was in. "Second," my new friend replied. Then I found out this girl is only six
years old (almost seven), knows sign language, and also knows a bunch
of Spanish thanks to Rosetta Stone. The girl invited Fiona to her birthday party, so the mom
wanted to send a text to my cell phone with the details. I don't have a
texty phone, so I suggested she send me a Facebook message. "Are we
friends on Facebook?" she asked. Slap. Boy did I feel rotten. I had been reminding myself, it's
not a contest...stay out of the mommy war...the girl is the oldest of
three kids...not one of seven....you were like that with Ian...Ian can
probably spell petrified...but there's that Facebook thing... I
still felt like I was failing my kids because they can't spell. My girls even form some of the letters
the wrong way when they do spell...another way I've failed them. Sigh. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, I decided to spend some time today on spelling tests, which only were interrupted by potty emergencies...
Last night, Ian and Shane were doing their nightly ritual of fooling around before bed. We almost never get to just send them to bed without coming back to yell at them for being noisy. Last night's foolery ended with Ian stuffing a rock in Shane's mouth and chipping a tooth. Seriously. I can't make this stuff up. I was angry enough they went straight to bed without a peep after I informed Ian he would be paying for the damage. This morning, Shane was puffy-faced from crying and wanted to pay half because he was half responsible (note to self: this shows that I've raised a kid with a conscience and a sense of duty and not a total fool). Ian felt so bad, he refused to get out of bed this morning. He is still in bed, although he came out briefly to do the dishes and speak to his "teacher" under threat of grounding. He was refusing to eat as well...
Heidi is super-attached. Anyone who says that bottle fed babies are not as attached as breastfeeding babies hasn't met Heidi! She cries anytime I put her down. Heidi's tummy has pretty much settled down as long as I avoid dairy. When I do indulge in cheesy goodness, she does start spitting up again with a little fussiness on the side. When her tummy is bugging her, she also eats a lot more. So she goes through a lot more diapers. She complains when her diaper is wet, so I will take her back and change her to find out she actually had to go again. She loves to pee when her diaper is off. I was super annoyed to be mopping up her third puddle of the morning...
Lula is going through a major transformation. We are hiding her binky. She is signing like crazy and even saying a whole bunch of new words with her signs! And just in time too, because Heidi started saying, "Ba-ba-ba!" This morning I had to watch a Signing Time movie with her because she has a sign and I have no idea what it means. I thought it had something to do with eating or food, so I put that show on. Instead, I watched all these kids knowing how to set a table and say, "May I please be excused?" when they are done eating; this is something my kids have never experienced. Parent fail. Lula is also refusing to wear a diaper. When I try to put one on her, she kicks and screams and pulls it off the minute I have my back turned (you know, right about the time I'm changing Heidi's diaper or wiping her spit up off my arm (and no, the pizza was not worth it)). But when I put her on the potty, she screams and cries and acts terrified and then runs off and pees by the back door. I'm not about to spend days and weeks fixing a fear of the potty. I can wait to potty train her... but only if she cooperates and wears a diaper. And that isn't happening...
If you mix up the puffy-faced boy with a chipped tooth, the preteen in his room, the crying baby left in the living room, the crying toddler on the potty, and the bad feelings about manners and spelling and Facebook, you get me crying and shaking my fist. And praying. Please God, help a mom out, will You? Was I a fool? Am I a total failure?
I hear a tinkle tinkle tinkle in the potty and look up to see a BIG SMILE from Lula.
God answers prayers in the strangest ways, doesn't He?
