When I was first divorced, I wondered how I would handle everything on my own. I was a stay-at-home/homeschooling mother to two boys who were only 5 and 7 years old. I tried to stay in a marriage with an alcoholic/drug addict for as long as I could but it became so unhealthy and unsafe, we had to leave. Over the next couple years, my whole identity would change. We would move out of our beautiful home into a new community, they would start school, I would begin working and not seeing them as much, I started dating (!!!) and even our dog died. We were the epitome of every sad country song!
Except for every other weekend, I do all the parenting, all the driving (The car lines…what is wrong with all the parents who cannot drive in the carlines?!), all the homework, all the doctors visits. I’ve been working and going back to school full time all while being both mother and father with little to no break. I want to be tender with them when I have to be tough. I bear the brunt of their meltdowns, their fighting, their incessant burping and farting…so. much. flatulence!!!! Some days it’s just too much and I lose it. I think to myself, “That’s it! This is the moment they will forever remember as the day that I’ve screwed them up for good!”
And then we wake up the next morning. These wonderful, smart, witty boys tiptoe in my room asking if it’s safe to come in. They snuggle in next to me and tell me how sorry they are for yesterday and bring me breakfast that is made with love but not much flavor. Through welled up eyes, I will flush it down the toilet when they’re not looking and tell them how delicious it was. I don’t deserve such grace from these young men who have seen and endured so much already. And in the midst of our gracefulMess, I realize that I wouldn’t trade a thing! My sweet, soft babies are turning into big, hairy, stinky young men. They have compassion and smarts that are beyond their years. And I am beyond lucky to be their mom!