For Real?!

So, most of the time I try to be optimistic and not speak unkindly of others and so on and so on. Well, in light of making this a tad bit more of a blogging journal, I am going to put all that optimism aside and just be real. In illustrating some of my personal frustrations, I am totally not blaming those frustrations on others. I am simply expressing how a series of incidents has culminated in this downhill battle of emotions and self-esteem. Here is the story. A couple of days ago we got a call from someone asking to look at our house. He said he would call back after he talked with his wife about a good time to come and would call us back the next day. Of course Julian and I were on a high to have our first potential buyer come look at our place. We spent hours cleaning the house after the kids were in bed. And then I went grocery shopping at 11:00, knowing that if I didn't, I would be shopping with 3 kids the next day. When I got home after midnight, Julian was still up cleaning. The house looked GREAT! The next day, we got no call. Kind of puts you in a sour mood. And now that so much energy has been put into cleaning, I now feel like I can't even live in this house. Every time the kids come in the house, I have to set Paige down and carry each child to the bathtub to wash their feet as not to dirty the freshly cleaned carpet. We had activity days at our house and I had to plan the whole activity outside which isn't hard,, just another stressor involving extension cords and a blender.

Getting the picture? Well, we are now on the rollercoaster of real estate, and the house is filled with tension and anxiety. The other day somebody came to our door and I seriously wondered if I could invite them in, or if I would end up getting "the talk" about how their dirty feet would make a mess. And , yes, I invited them in. And, no, I did not get "the talk."

This morning is the morning that Ogden left for Texas. He was super excited and couldn't wait to ride the new-to-him bike that is waiting. Kaelyn is sad because Ogden is leaving and she wants to go to Texas with him (even though she gets homesick pretty quick). I'm really glad Ogden gets to go spend time with his grandparents in Texas. However, getting ready to go involves dun dun dun: messes. Laundry. Suitcases. Piles of clothes and toys and food to pack. This morning I loaded up the car with the 3 kids and Julian raced around the house like a mad man getting ready for work, making his breakfast, and picking up our trail of getting readiness. As I left, he said, "when you leave, you need to make sure the house is clean." He is right. I know he is right. But sour Alicia is thinking, "Do I really need to? Is somebody really going to want to come over during the 3 hours that I'm gone?"

Upon arriving at the hotel that Nana was staying at, the kids excitement was really climaxing. Ogden is going to Texas. Kaelyn is going to see Nana for a little bit before they left to the airport. And the kids were beginning to act like. . .kids. We hung out in Nana's room for about an hour. An hour that brought out baby talk and asking silly questions and being reminded not to stand on beds and and and. I left the hotel feeling like I could not control my kids. I hate that feeling. They didn't really do anything bad, it's just so hard to act like perfect little angels when you're so excited. And my kids have more personality than perfect little angels.

On the way home, Kaelyn was crying because she missed her brother and also said her Molly was hurting (a nickname for her reoccurring cold sore). I passed her a tube of vaseline (the clear, greasy kind) so she could apply it to her Molly. Driving, driving, driving. I turned around and Kaelyn had thoughtfully rubbed vaseline all over her face, arms, and legs, and even lubed Paige up a little bit. Her skin is very hydrated now. Why did you let your 4 year old have the vaseline for so long? I don't know.

When we got home, I rubbed her down with a rag and then changed Paige's diaper. As I reached for the fresh diaper, I suddenly noticed a stream of urine running off the changing pad onto the. . .CARPET.

Now, I know there are probably hundreds of things I could have done to prevent each situation that, in turn, made me feel more and more like a failing mom. But I don't want to know about prevention strategies. I just want empathy. And I hope other mom readers (if you have even read this mammoth entry) can relate and feel uplifted by the realness of motherhood.