Shelby
Texan & Aggie

Some call me creative. Some call me funny. Only one calls me his Mrs. Three call me Momma. You can call me Shelby. I say I’m just me, a proud Texan & Aggie who loves the Lord, good food and seeing the world- even if it’s more through my babies’ eyes’ than via airplane these days. I’m just over here taking it one day at a time with a Dr. Pepper in hand and #keepingitreal on assignment for Jesus.

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I’m Not Pizza- My Hardest Struggle

By on April 14, 2015

I can’t make everyone happy. I am not pizza. I get it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t spend my days as a mom to 3 under 3 trying to do just that. Make everyone happy.
If you wonder what I struggle with being a mom, especially a mom at home all day with three kids who depend on me, this is it.
Somedays I have a good track record. Others are screaming, crying, fit throwing days full of disappointment.
Today was one of those days but it started out like most, with high hopes.
I fell asleep AND woke up right next to my husband for the first time in months. We made it through a night just the two of us, and it was marvelous. Our kids were here, they just weren’t right here smack dab in the middle of our bed. Did I mention we have a queen bed? Teething struck our house with a vengeance months ago and the twins have not simultaneously slept all night since. I was in such shock when I woke up this morning I was checking around me and wondering if someone had rolled off the bed. I was sleeping good y’all.  I like my sleep and I guess my body had forgotten just how awesome it is.
My eyes were met with bright rays of sunshine and my ears were met with the cries of a very hungry baby, and a husband shuffling to rescue her before it became two very hungry babies. I enjoyed the sleep and the break from my appendages but round one was up and ready to make up for lost time. And that pretty much sums up my morning as the breakfast buffet.
I love the simplicity of being able to nurse the twins, and the one on one time that that gives us. But we have a third (or is it fourth) wheel in our nursing relationship- the weaned, and former only child, toddler. He wants his one on one time with his momma too. He asks nicely from the moment he gets up with a hug and adorable “Momma hoowd yew.” I switch a baby to the other hip and oblige as I pull him out of his crib. Then it’s back to feeding a baby in the recliner while Curious George entertains him for 12 minutes when he wants a “stwawberry nola arr.” Usually perfectly timed to be just as I swap one twin from my lap to the floor for another. And so begins my overuse of “Hold on Brock, let me…and then I can…” for the day. He’s super patient and understands most of the time, but some days, like today, he just can’t take it and a meltdown ensues.
“Momma hoowd yew!”
“Momma hoowd yew!!”
“Mommmm-a hooo-wd y-ewwww!!!”
Everyone wants me. All at once. All day long. And today I could feel my blood pressure rising.
Most days I tune it out and push through one task at a time, one kid at a time, until everyone is happy again. It’s character building. They’re learning patience and that it’s not all about them. Or at least that’s what I tell myself as I am forced to choose one kid over another.
Today I couldn’t tune it out. The toddler’s pleas were genuine and convincing. He needed me after he finished his breakfast. But the twins weren’t done with theirs, aka me, and so he just had to wait.
He acted out by biting his brother on the forehead- I put him in timeout on the couch with a warning. It still wasn’t enough.
He insisted I could multitask and climbed on the arm of the recliner. There’s not enough room in my lap for a sideways baby and a 30 pound squirming toddler and he convinced me he could sit there instead.
He didn’t want to share. Not me. Not the recliner. And not one single toy his brother or sister touched as they explored the playroom between feedings.
I sent him to his room until he could stop whining and be nice. Though I think I told him I was going to leave him there all day, tempting as it was, I knew that wouldn’t happen.
Now it is lunch time and I was hungry, because believe it or not I didn’t eat breakfast. Or even get to stop long enough to guzzle the Dr. Pepper I stuck in the freezer to get a quick fix ASAP.
Brock wanted Cheerios with milk. And a banana. In a shark bowl. With a straw. And that’s what he got, I was picking my battles today and this wasn’t one of them. He could of had Cheetos if he wanted. Though he did help me finish a bag of BBQ Wavy Lays a few hours later when I got lunch but that’s another story.
One baby was up and hungry and one baby was napping, but I knew not for long. The 2 year old protested being in his room, after he asked to be there and insisted I rock him before covering him up. Only to decide that was absolutely not what he wanted as soon as I met his demands. Now that someone else was up (thanks to a noisy roommate) and getting my attention, because guess what, she was hungry, the “MOMMA ROCK YEW!” cries grew louder by the minute.
I shut him in his room so he could calm down and expected him to become distracted by tractors and dressers to climb within a few minutes like usual.
He wasn’t having it. 20 minutes later he was still crying for me. Cries that normally I can handle but today they were breaking my heart because he really needed me and I couldn’t stay strong anymore. I wanted all of my kids to be happy and know that I loved each of them like crazy.
The mom guilt started creeping in. Kids are demanding. Toddlers are even more demanding. And well, babies, they are the most demanding of all. I felt like my kids only form of communication was crying and I was maxed out and could only meet it with threats and yelling.
I even sat Marshall on the bed to change his diaper and turned around to yell at Brock only to hear a thud. He is officially not left out anymore, all three of my kids have rolled off the bed on my watch.
The irony of yelling at my toddler to be quiet from one end of the house to another? I was telling him to hush before he woke up his sister. Not my finest parenting moment but I promised to keep it real, and that’s as real as it gets.
Some days suck as a mom of three kids. And today was one of those days. If there were only more than one of me I wouldn’t be outnumbered.
Why is this so hard? I can’t do this. I texted a pity party to my husband who was apparently having a rough morning as a boss/business-owner/big boy and met my pity with his own. Life is hard no matter where you do it I realized. Then my favorite was quick to lift our spirits with “sorry it’s hard but it will get better”.
There’s hope I thought. I can do this. We can do this.
Now two were napping and the middle child was having a sympathy snack after the rollover incident. Still in a dirty diaper, but not complaining. Priorities people, priorities.
And just in case I wasn’t done with my pity party God met me where I was, again. Facebook.
He really is all knowing. And can give us a boost right when we need it most.
Just scrolling through my newsfeed and half way paying attention to Murphy Brown on Ellen, He found me.
And I’m so glad He did. So glad in fact I thought I’d share.
Number one is passed out on his floor.
Number two is just a swinging. Praise the Lord he still fits in there.
And number three is playing Sleeping Beauty for going on 4 hours now.
So here I am playing blogger for the first time in weeks. How sweet it is.
I can’t make everyone happy, but for the hour it took me to write this, everyone under my roof was. Thanks to siestas for them and chocolate covered macadamias and a Dr. Pepper for this momma.
In the time I sat to write this I also forgot to set dinner in the sink to thaw and ignored two phone calls, sorry Rochelle, but I knew you wouldn’t mind. I’m blessed God met me where I was today and helped me push through. And maybe, just maybe, He met you here and told you the same thing.
Has God ever met you on the internet?

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