That delicate balance

In light of recent changes I've been thinking of what exactly it means to be a mother.
The moment I became pregnant with Faith there was terror. Crippling fear that I wouldn't be good enough.
Could I be good enough? It's not exactly a secret that my childhood was far from perfect. Way better than most, but to say that my family is dysfunctional gets a no duh response from anyone who knows us. So I could rise to the challenge & be a great mom despite the way I'd been taught to be a parent?

I spent way too much time while pregnant with Faith watching "A Baby Story" and all the other random awful shows about childbirth on television.
99% of the births on there...well, 99% of them end in c-sections, but the ones that don't go like this..mom screams while pushing, baby comes out screaming, they wipe baby off, mom cries, they put baby on mom's chest & baby stops crying. All is well.
Yea, that's not how it goes in the real world.
This is how mine went: mom grunts & groans like she's trying to pass the biggest dump of her life, baby comes out screaming, they wipe baby off & put her on mom's chest, baby keeps screaming. Screaming. Screaming..and continues to scream for the next 3 months.

Thus began our tumultuous relationship as mother and daughter.
My little girl is the most stubborn pre-schooler I have ever met in my entire life. There's often conversation about who she gets it from but if I'm going to be perfectly honest, most of it comes from me.
I love to argue. I love to be right..and I almost always have to be. If someone else wins an argument it eats me up inside & while I may laugh it off on the outside on the inside I'm plotting how I'm going to cut the brake lines on their car.

So a lot of conversations on our house are exactly like this:
Faith: "I want to watch Dora!"
Me: "No. It was time to turn the TV off. No more Dora today."
Faith: "I want to watch Dora RIGHT NOW!"
Me: (still calm at this point) "I said no. Let's find something else to do. Would you like to (insert boring stupid activity that is no way near as fun as listening to Dora say the same 5 phrases over & over again)?"
Faith: "Don't talk to me! I want to watch Dora! Just leave me alone!"
Me: "Fine! I'd love to!"
Because see..nothing's quite as satisfying as telling a 3 & 1/2 year old off. I have the upper hand now, right? But I don't.

Discipline is such a hard thing. You have this idea in your head before you have kids of how it's going to be then you find what you always thought was tried and true isn't really all that crystal clear.
There is no black and white when it comes to showing your kids who's boss.
I am not a spanker. I stand firm in the belief that if it's illegal & unacceptable to raise a hand to your spouse it's absolutely barbaric to raise a hand to someone 1/4 of your size.
So you find other more creative alternatives of discipline to hitting.

I've totally gone off on a tangent here. My apologies. I got minimal sleep last night thanks to the twisters of the great state of Oklahoma. We spent a better part of our 1-2am in our storm shelter.

I guess all I'm trying to say is that there are no absolutes. There is no such thing as the perfect parent.
I've heard my lactivist friends badmouth a mother that chose not to breastfeed. I was even one of those mothers at one point.
I hear mothers bash other mothers for letting their kids watch too much TV or eat at McDonald's once a month.

So what makes a good parent? Shouldn't the only qualification be to love your children? It's hugging them as tight as you can..without squeezing their eyeballs out of their sockets..even when you don't think you can take one more minute of being in the house with them. It's when they've gotten all your red food coloring & green icing coloring & smeared it all over their little play kitchen while getting it all over their shirt..your favorite of theirs none the less...and you wash their hands, kiss them on their head and send them on their merry way.
Patience, endurance, strength, and realizing that your children are the most incredible gift you could've ever received.
To do anything less than my absolute best even on the worst day is a huge disservice to them and to myself.
They deserve the best from me. The best I can give and then some.
So that's what I do every day. This is my job and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Meet my children

Most of you know my kids so I'll keep this relatively short & very sweet..because they're tooth achingly sweet.
First of all, yes my children have long names. I've been told by a select few people that they will indeed hate me for this later in life. I'm hoping these people are just your stereotypical jackasses who don't know anything about life or who I am and that my children will learn to embrace their names.
No, Elliott's middle name is not a Star Wars reference. Please don't ask me again. If it were it wouldn't contain the "D".
This is typical Faith:

She is, in fact, my princess. She loves just as hard as she fights.
If you are wanting to get on her good side, be sure and bring some sort of lip gloss, lipstick, or just plain lip smackers will do in a pinch.
She loves giving people gifts. I cannot tell you how many times I've been gifted something completely random and wonderful. This collection includes rocks, dirty socks, her dad's floss, and flowers picked from our yard.
I'm sure you've heard the phrase "one track mind"? That's just scratching the surface of this kid's determination.
Her dad & I argue quite often as to who she gets her ridiculously hard head from. The fact that we argue about it so often & for so long will probably prove the theory that she got a double dose. With us as her parents she never stood a chance.
She knows the words to many a Kimya Dawson songs seeing as how that's all the poor kid ever gets to listen to in the car with her mom.
We do throw in the occasional Aquabats though. Rest assured my kids know that Friday day is pizza day & that is most definitely the best day of the week. If you don't know what I'm talking about go to your nearest independent record store & purchase an Aquabats album stat.



Elliott Django Stephen A.
I know you're going to ask me what the "A" stands for because, let's face it, nearly everyone does. Stephen A. is a family name from my husband's side. Legend has it that the "A" stands for Abraham but has gotten shortened to just the initial over the years.
He's either going to grow up to be a prize winner kickboxer or do vocals in a screamo band.
This kid has been blessed with one of the most amazing sets of lungs in the history of the human race.
And I have been kicked in the nose more than once when I've thought..he's finally broken it this time.
He definitely knows where his belly button, nose, eyes, ears, hair, teeth, mouth, feet, hands, penis, and button are because let's face it..I ask him nearly every day. I'm sure it's getting extremely old by now.
He also automatically associates a fart with the action of poop. Let one loose & he will tilt his head to one side & say "poop" as in to say.."listen, if you crapped your pants my mom's excellent at cleaning that shit up."

One moment my children love each other more than Donnie loves Marie. Wait..that's creepy. More than they love DJ Lance Rock. Other times it's I feel like we should put a ring in the living room & I install a little microphone that falls out of the ceiling so I can at least keep tabs on who wins each match.

I am far from a perfect mother & they are nothing but the most perfect children in the world. I still can't believe they're mine. I have this obsession of staring at them while they sleep & thinking "These are actually my chidlren?!"

Thanks for reading.
I hope you find this blog anything but boring, but hopefully I can share stories with you that prove there's no such thing as a perfect parenting method, a perfect mother, or a perfect life with kids.
There are ups & downs, but mostly ups.
Every day is seriously an adventure & I can't wake up each morning to find out what we'll be experiencing that day.