I am sure that out there in the world, there are countless books on motivation. How to get motivated is probably the main focus of such books. I have absolutely no desire to read a single one of them. When I sit in a messy house, one that grows messier by the minute (when the children are awake) I tend to feel highly UN-motivated. I suspect that reading a book that will give me advice on finding my motivation will do me no good. The reason I suspect this is because; the source of (most) of my UN-motivated feelings is my children. Why is it that a child can't play neatly? What drives them to touch the walls on their very short walk from the table to the bathroom?? Do they really have to put every item they've handled throughout the day on the floor??? My poor drawers and shelves, they look so lonely and bare!
I thrive on a clean and orderly home! I enjoy organizing and cleaning. Yet, I do not want to do either of these things right now, because I know that in a fraction of a minute they will be undone. There is no place in my house that is untouched. MY room is the catch-all room where things get put when I don't have the time or the "proper" place to put them. The kids take over both living rooms almost immediately and their bedrooms are really just a constant invitation to throw bedding in a pile on the floor and jump into it. Don't let me get started on bathrooms, except to say that toilet paper rolls FULL of toilet paper are my nightmare!!!! The kitchen could almost be my sanctuary if it weren't for the need of being cleaned THREE TIMES A DAY!! I do not currently have a pantry, or enough cabinet space, so my kitchen, even at it's cleanest has a decided "bursting at the seams" look to it.
It get's very discouraging. I can clean, and keep up tolerably well without my motivation, but it feels empty and temporary. I don't do the "deep" cleaning because there is no point. I know that all the work I do in a day (un-motivated) is just a band-aid. It just takes the wind out of my sails.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
The REAL reality.
I know that when I dreamt of being a mother I was, of course, going to be perfect. I am now, twenty-eight years old and have been a mother for seven years and twenty-seven days (as of August 24th of 2011). I am not the perfect mommy. Shocking, I know!
When my first child was born I couldn't get enough of her. Having prided myself on being an openly selfish person for the majority of my life I was more than happy to do and give anything for that little baby. Waking up in the middle of the night was no problem, being available to nurse for sustenance and comfort at all hours was easy to do. All the little (and big) sacrifices that come with a newborn didn't even feel like sacrifices because I enjoyed doing them. I was also one of the lucky women who had uncomplicated pregnancies and I didn't "suffer" through them at all. When baby number two arrived I had a short period where I missed my oldest's time and attention, but she was happy to be entertained by her daddy and it ended up working pretty well for us, "one on one". I got to enjoy the whole baby stage again and all was good. By the time number three came along, things became a little more complicated. My oldest was four and not as easily placated with simple answers to endless questions, she would get bored with toys quicker and daddy was deployed. I couldn't spend as much time in "baby heaven" as I had with the first two. I started to realize that maybe my selfishness was still lurking under the surface. It was getting a little difficult.
Fast foreword three years and I now have another baby and I am enjoying him so much! As the thoughts start to swirl around about him being my last, I begin to wonder if I'll be able to fully shed my REAL selfishness and be a good parent to something other than babies. I know I can be a GREAT mommy to a baby, but I see how I can be with my older three and it hits me hard to know that I try to just "get by" parenting them. I am faced with the reality that my selfishness which I fed and fostered for years is still very much alive. The battle with it is only just beginning.
When my first child was born I couldn't get enough of her. Having prided myself on being an openly selfish person for the majority of my life I was more than happy to do and give anything for that little baby. Waking up in the middle of the night was no problem, being available to nurse for sustenance and comfort at all hours was easy to do. All the little (and big) sacrifices that come with a newborn didn't even feel like sacrifices because I enjoyed doing them. I was also one of the lucky women who had uncomplicated pregnancies and I didn't "suffer" through them at all. When baby number two arrived I had a short period where I missed my oldest's time and attention, but she was happy to be entertained by her daddy and it ended up working pretty well for us, "one on one". I got to enjoy the whole baby stage again and all was good. By the time number three came along, things became a little more complicated. My oldest was four and not as easily placated with simple answers to endless questions, she would get bored with toys quicker and daddy was deployed. I couldn't spend as much time in "baby heaven" as I had with the first two. I started to realize that maybe my selfishness was still lurking under the surface. It was getting a little difficult.
Fast foreword three years and I now have another baby and I am enjoying him so much! As the thoughts start to swirl around about him being my last, I begin to wonder if I'll be able to fully shed my REAL selfishness and be a good parent to something other than babies. I know I can be a GREAT mommy to a baby, but I see how I can be with my older three and it hits me hard to know that I try to just "get by" parenting them. I am faced with the reality that my selfishness which I fed and fostered for years is still very much alive. The battle with it is only just beginning.
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