Cuddles, Kisses, and Dreams

I always wanted kids.  Always. I wanted my own little humans to play with, teach, love, and cuddle. While we waited several years before having kids, we had them quick... one after the other after the other.  Was this planned?  A little yes and a little no.  Is life a crazy hectic mess?  Sure. Do I regret the last 5 years of constant diapers and tears and struggling bank accounts paying for medical bills and childcare?  Absolutely not!

Beckett, Brooks, and Eliza are exactly what I dreamed they would be; loving, smart, funny, sweat, cuddly, and all with blondish hair and blue eyes just like Michael.  But being a mom and wife are nothing like I expected.  

I pictured myself staying home, driving a large SUV, living in a huge house with lots of room (preferable in my hometown of Frankenmuth, MI), kids that listened and respected everyone, having the ability to 'live in the moment' and enjoy everything, going on regular dates or weekend get-aways with Michael, being able to stay on top of house work... I just knew I could be "That mom," but turns out, I'm nothing like that woman. 

But, maybe I wasn't meant to be that mom.

I wasn't meant to have it all together.  My house isn't huge and it always needs to be cleaned. My kids listen when they aren't supposed to and conveniently don't hear me when I want them to.  We drive a cross-over because, let's face it, I'd rather have a minivan but we needed a tow package for the pop-up. I don't run the PTA, instead, I am on the receiving end of the PTA as a teacher who loves when they have the chili pot luck.  Michael and I have never had a weekend get-away. Our weekends consist of babies in our bed, camping as a family, and soccer games.  

Staying home... while I know is perfect for many, was not me. I was home exactly one year and that year was so hard on our marriage and myself emotionally, that working was a better option for our family. And you know what, I love teaching!  No, not all the time, but in my heart, just as I knew I would be a mother, I know I am a teacher.   

I'm not "that mom," my kids aren't perfect, our marriage has its ups and down, and sometimes I do just want to get in the car and drive away from it all... but I don't because despite any struggles, this is the life I was meant for. I am lucky enough to start and end each day giving cuddles, stealing kisses, and helping  the three sweetest little ones I know jump into their dreams.

Hello, my name is Megan and I yell.

I admit it, I am a mom who yells. I'm not sure if I inherited my loud voice and quick temper from my father, or if it something I've just developed over years of teaching 8th graders, but like it or not, I'm a yeller. This isn't something I'm necessarily proud of... granted, there are times when life warrants a good yell, but also, I wish my body had a pause button that allowed me the foresight into knowing "Is this really worth it?"

Case in point, last Friday my eldest son decided to continually throw rocks at our neighbor's window, even after she yelled for him to stop.  After seeing her sun porch disaster first hand, I walked back home fuming.  She had told him to stop.  She had just had knee surgery and was forced to hobble over to our home. She was a single mother.  He knew better!  I stormed in the house and screamed "Beckett Michael Martinka! Get your butt down here, I know what you did?" Incidentally, that was all I was able to get in before returning to our neighbor's with Michael to tape the window. 

Result of Beckett''s pitching arm

After, I went on a run and reflected.  On the run I regretted what I was about to say and possibly do to him.  I returned home, took his most prized possession from him (His Blanket), had a very serious and calm talk with him, and then I calmed down. Don't get me wrong, breaking a window definitely warrants a punishment, but being married to a "non yeller" really magnifies how often I am quick to yell instead of talk about what is going on. Why can't I just calm down in the moment? 

Yesterday, same thing.  I commute 40 minutes each way with my boys and inevitable,several times a week, I yell.  The boys were having a pointless argument that entailed throwing items, taking swings across the isle at each other, and screaming... I turn off the movie, and yelled, "What are you doing back there? Stop it! This is dangerous!  Why can't you get along?"  (Yes mom, I realize this is Karma)  The boys, were silenced and did not speak nor giggled the rest of the ride.  Initially, I was relieved and then mom guilt kicked and and five minutes from home I felt shame for having squelched their voices so harshly.  

I yell, probably more than most. No, my kids are not afraid of me, they don't cower when I walk by or hide from me, but I still feel shame for how much I yell.  I try, honestly I do.  I try to pause and reflect in the moment, but that isn't me.  I'm a quick tempered, easily stressed mom.  I take anxiety meds and run as often as possible to get the stress and anxiety out of me. I don't want my kids to ever look back and have this be a quality they remember about me... so each day I wake up, take a deep breath, and try again.