I Need to Tell You Sumpin' Working Momma

Those few quiet moments in the early morning, before the sun rises along with everyone else in the house; that is your precious time alone. I know you need it. You just sit and breathe, sip on your coffee, maybe do a little reading, and enjoy the silence and the calm. You, Working Momma, need this time.
But, you don't always get it. Some days from the moment your feet touch the floor you don't get a minute's rest; not a single second.
You schedule and plan and try to make each opportunity during the day as productive as you can.... just to keep up.

Slow down and enjoy life they say. Take it all in they tell us. Stop and smell the roses. 

Roses sound wonderful. Slowing down and enjoying life seems like a really great idea. But who can really do that? Of course you and every momma would rather just spend the three hours of daylight after work playing with your kids and making up for the sunshine you missed, the street chalk drawings, snotty noses you wish you could've wiped, and the tickle matches you only hear about. You wish you could stop every time your kid needs a cuddle or a long talk. You try to compromise with a quick squeeze and a 'It'll be okay but we gotta go.' You always gotta go; either early in the morning for school and work, or late in the evening for practices, errands and way-too-soon bedtime.

Enough of the sensational third person.... sometimes I need to hear that it's normal and ok. 

The other night, about 3 am, kid #4, the girl, started crying for me. She doesn't usually do this kind of thing. Normally if she wakes at night she yells, 'Momma! I need you! Come here Mommyyyyy!' 

This time it was actual crying. 

So I rolled out of bed and hopped to the floor with a little spring to get to her quickly. She said, 'Mommy I tee tee and I all wet.' 

She was so upset and yucky. This is only about her second time to ever wet the bed and it was definitely a devastating shock to her. I think she did the whole dream about going to the bathroom and sitting on the potty and going in the bed until it wakes you. She used the bathroom after and still had plenty. But I found myself scrubbing the mattress, sticking her in our bed and kicking a tired but happy-to-oblige Daddo to the large, over-stuffed couch in the quiet den. At 3:30 I was crawling back into bed and cuddling up to my girl, secretly happy I would get some snuggle time sleeping with my youngest. 

WRONG. 

My kids don't sleep with us. We don't share beds. So when we are forced to sleep together it has never been a peaceful night's rest. My extra bouncy, energetic two and a half year old tossed, turned, grabbed my face, got hot, got cold, asked for a dwink {she didn't get one}, and tried talking to me every time I was just about to doze off. 'Where Daddy go? 'Where Rhett? Where Bubba? I watch Sofia?' 

Finally after an hour of this snuggling madness, she was sideways in our bed and kicked her heel into my kidney. I shot up, catching my breath, and told her in my loving momma stern voice that she better GO TO SLEEP RIGHT NOW. 

Then.

She started to cry. 

I forget that these girl babies {atleast our creature} don't cry when they're spanked and they are expert manipulators when you try to talk with them. But give them an extra stern, slightly loud voice coupled with the stinky eye, and they emotionally turn to a puddle. 

Not my intentions while trying to get her to sleep. So as much as I wanted that special snuggly bonding time with my much-too-grown-already two year old baby, I needed my sleep even more. 

By 4:30, I had reset my alarm and surrendered to the fact I was not going to get in my workout time, but maybe I'd get what little time left I had before getting up for work. At 5:00, after two hours of quality time with my precious little angel, thank GOD she was finally asleep. 30 minutes later my alarm went off for me to get up for my half hour of coffee and quiet time before the 16 hours of non-stop started. 

As I quietly slid out of bed, I heard 'Mommy where you going?' 

My momma soul wilted. I'm just going into the kitchen, I'll be right back,' fully hoping she'd fall back asleep and no intentions of coming back. 

As I sat in the living room, stubbornly demanding and forcing my quiet, peaceful time into this
dreadful day, I heard from the other end of the house, 'Mommy where are you? Mommmyyyyyy
come here! Mommmyyyyy I neeeeeddddd you.' 

You become really, really good at drowning out voices, noises, requests, questions and whines, the 
longer you're a mom, and the more children you have around you. But after so many minutes of me 
forcing my peaceful, quiet time into my day, I gave in and went to check on her and start getting dressed for work. 

I found my precious daughter sitting up in my bed distraught overly dramatic because of my absence. I told her to lay down and wait on momma while I got dressed in my bathroom. I closed the bathroom door and started getting ready. Makeup, hair, I was moving fast because I knew I only had a handful of minutes before--'Mommy?' Never mind. One minute. One eye outlined. 

'Cora lay down. Momma's getting dressed. I'll be out in a minute.'
The bathroom door behind me slowly started to open. 

'Momma?' The innocently sweet voice that I've heard all night long questioned my intentions for the next few minutes once again. 'Cora what is it?' I impatiently asked while trying to put mascara on my left eye.
'Momma, I need to tell you sumpin,' she said. 

This was her new way of getting someone's full attention and she would whisper in your ear, sometimes grabbing the side of your face to turn it facing her.  Usually when she saw we were actually ready to listen to her, she would have to quickly come up with something to say; shocked she was getting her desired attention.
This time I stopped between my left and right eye application and knelt down to her little face looking up at me. I tried to ignore my exhausted, sleep-deprived body and mind and give her the attention she wanted. Maybe then, I thought, she would give me the time I needed to get dressed. But I leaned down, she grabbed both sides of my face with her little hands and she whispered in my ear, 'I love you Mommy.'

That's when my impatient, anxious, always-in-a-hurry mind and body, suddenly stopped and listened to the sound of her little voice and the look of her sweet eyes. As exhausted and frustrated as I was from the sleepless night, and the rush of getting ready for the work day, it was really that simple. She still loves me. And I love her. 

We can't give everything that we want to our children. It's not possible. The time, money, constant protection we want to provide isn't humanly possible. And it's not always needed.

So let me tell you sumpin' workin' momma. The  greatest thing we can ever give our kids, is love. 
No matter how crazy we get, they know we love them. And they will always love you.