Thursday, July 3, 2014

Sick Day

I spend the mornings on Thursday regaining my sanity.  I have a sitter and I spend the first few hours of freedom at a coffee shop writing many of the posts you read and reading things that inspire me.  I spend the rest of the morning running errands, having lunch with friends or visiting boutiques filled with beautiful things.  I crave my Thursday mornings.  And so when my oldest threw up all over the couch 15 minutes before the sitter was supposed to show up, I felt sorry for myself before I felt sorry for him.

I hate admitting that.  I know my first instinct should be to worry about him but, instead, I just felt annoyed.  I said a silent prayer that it wouldn't show and rushed over to clean him up, hold him and then mop up the couch. (Incidentally, I found a paint brush, a matchbox car and several goldfish crackers between the cushions as well.  My house is a treasure trove.)  I set him up with ginger ale and Disney Jr. in my bedroom then set up my middle with his breakfast.  My baby needed her morning nap so I ran upstairs to nurse her and lay her down.  As I rocked her, I prayed for a servant's heart instead of one that felt so undeniably selfish.

My whole morning was spent running between rooms and meeting needs.  My oldest wanted desperately to be snuggled while my middle wanted desperately to swim.  My baby kicked happily wherever I put her but I worried about getting her too close to her feverish brother.  When the dryer beeped, I felt rage built up.  I thought, "Even the DRYER needs me!?" This was when I knew I had probably get back to that praying thing.  Then the phone rang.

"Hey," my husband said in a gentle tone.  "You lost your Thursday, huh?"  
I felt myself relax a little at the sound of his voice.  "Yeah and I'm really trying to be less bitchy about it," I told him.  "I feel so sorry for Luke - He feels awful and I can't seem to take care of everybody at once," I explained.  
"How about I come home and give you a few hours of time after my lunch appointment?" he suggested.  
"Really?  You could do that?"  I asked, almost afraid that the confirmation would make this glimmer of hope disappear.  
"Absolutely," he said.  And he did.

While I wanted God to help me feel less selfish, He did something else for me.  He sent my husband to the rescue.  My husband saw that I had a need for a few hours to think and be me.  I had a need to write and explore and unplug from motherhood for a little tiny bit.  And he met it.

It is such a struggle for us, as mothers, to admit how taxing motherhood can be.  We are constantly asked to put our needs and wants down for the sake of our family.  We are never off duty and can feel every emotion on the spectrum in a single day.  It is incredibly rewarding and fulfilling; There's no question about that fact.  But it is certainly okay to feel a little selfish sometimes.  It's probably your heart saying it needs a little TLC.  

If you find yourself in the same boat as me today, know that you aren't alone.  Maybe there is someone in your life that can be give you the respite you need.  You'll never know unless you ask.

How do you overcome bouts of selfishness?  Do you see it as something to beat or a valid need that must be met?

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