Struggle bus

Anyone else riding the mom struggle bus? We started the day with two out of three kids asking for crepes and one kid asking for a breakfast smoothie. I did just that, I made a breakfast smoothie for all three kids AND crepes for all 3. I was in the kitchen for about an hour, prepping homemade crepes, smoothies and doing dishes.

Next up, tears. Tears from not enough Nutella on a crepe, tears from having no more Nutella, tears from a tummy ache from too many crepes, tears from having to turn off cartoons, tears from not JUST mangos in the smoothie, tears from a sibling touching you, tears from a sibling touching another sibling, tears from having to help clean up the house… yeah so lots of tears.

Some how, some way, the kids managed to play for a solid hour without fighting. They made a mess from hell from they were quiet. That could mean trouble, big trouble. In the moment, I opted to take it… my house wasn’t burning down (yet!) and my kids were quiet. Sometimes you take the quiet and the mess, because we all know they typically go hand in hand.

Then I opted to create some sanity for myself, prep for the gym. That would provide me with a good soul lift, a good sweat, the feeling of being strong and in control. I also decided to pack swim suits and pool stuff, just in case.

Well, just in case came… and went. People were losing their shit once again before we left the house. It was like trying to wrangle three wild circus animals into a cage… did I mention that they are different animals and aren’t even in the same circus? Oh and they eat each other?! You laughed, you know you did. That’s how it felt.

 

Today, I rode the struggle bus. At the end of the day, I sat on the back porch and cried while my husband held down the fort. Thank God for being partners in this madness. I was able to sit there and cry for as long as I needed too. He was supportive. I’m thankful for having him on my team and being my biggest support.

Today, the struggle bus pulled into the station at 7pm when their little butts hit the sheets. Today, I did the best I could. It didn’t seem good enough. I felt like I failed more times than not. Today, we all made it out alive. Today, I did the best I could. Tomorrow is a new day.

Face your fears

Earlier today I mentioned going a  bike ride. There was lots of excitement and everyone agreed. Should I mention that riding bikes with kids is like waiting for a train wreck to happen? No, really. Usually there's crying, screaming, crashing, cuts, bumps, bruises, more crying and frustration by all parties involved. Imagine all that times three...

One example: riding down the street... 

Kid one- crashes into a grass ditch and refuses to get back on the bike.

Kid two- is actually pulling their bike and not riding at all

Kid three- driving around like a wild drunk, crashing and doing it again... faster

(Pre-bike ride today, super excited, can you tell?!)

That sounds fun, right? Come on, doesn't it make you want to bike ride every day? Yeah, me neither. So for awhile, when we biked, I walked.... while ONE kid rode. This saved us all a little sanity. That can only last for so long though, so tonight I offered while praying to Calgon, God, Buddha, and anyone else that might be listening. 

Bella was SO excited, then I made her grab her new sports on with the bike attachment. Then she cried. 

"Mom, I do not want to do this. You are SO mean. Why are you forcing me to do this? You never listen to what I want. You are the worst mom ever. I don't even want this thing (pointing to the prosthetic). I never even asked for a bike hand. You wanted that, not me. I ONLY wanted the one for tumbling. UGH! I'm not going"

"Uh yeah you are. I'm sorry that you are not happy but you are trying this. I'll be right there to help you but you are wearing the prosthetic for ONE block."

More tears and frustration. "FINE but ONLY for ONE block!" 

"Sounds good!" she doesn't get a choice to brush her teeth or comb her hair because as her mother, I know best. She was not getting a choice about at least entertaining the option of trying the bike hand for one block. It's not like I was asking her for something crazy. It was completely reasonable and how would she know if she liked it or not if she didn't give it a chance.

Away the boys, Bella and I went down the street. Fifteen minutes later, we were three houses away. Yes that was NOT a typo, three houses people... HOUSES, not blocks! Bella was barely pedaling. The boys... see what I said earlier, they are those kids! I kept encouraging and giving support.

"You've got this Bella!"

"Good job pedaling, use your strong legs!"

"Go girl"

"You've got this!! Keep going!"

"Look at you! Nice work pedaling! You are doing great!"

"Keep it going sister!"

"Deep breath in and deep breath out, keep trying"

"Mom, I'm trying. I'm facing my fears. I'm really, really afraid. I'm scared I'm going to fall. I'm afraid, what if I fall? I'm trying hard mom. I'm breathing in and out. I can do this. I can try new things." She said to me and my heart took a hit. She was facing her fears of bike riding. She's unsteady even on training wheels. She's nervous and afraid. She needs a lot of encouragement. She was getting it. All that really mattered was that she was trying. 

About that time, her dad pedaling down the street on his bike! She was so excited. He rode up to the boys and stayed with them and would pedal back down by us. Slow and steady we were getting there. All of the boys in our crew were extra patient. 

At one point she asked to take off her prosthetic and I agree to let her at the end of the street. She didn't argue and kept going. At the end of the street, she stopped and asked if she could take it off. I helped her then stuck her prosthetic arm under my arm and we both rode off. About two turns of the pedal she piped up. 

"Mom I actually think it's easier with the prosthetic. Can you help me put it back on?" I did. I was actually happy that I had pushed it a little harder than she might have liked. She realized that it helped her be more steady. It helped her to have full control of the handle bars. 

Around the corner we went, slow and steady. We pedaled back in the driveway. I stopped to tell her how proud I was of her and that she did a really great job trying so hard. She really faced her fears and grabbed the bull by the horns. I shared with her that I was so proud that even though she was afraid, she still tried. That I was really proud of I told her, for trying! 

As we parked our bikes, she had one more thing to say...

"Mom tomorrow's my birthday. Do you think we could get me a new bike?" I simply smiled. We'll see!