I Love Them, I Love Them Not, I Love Them

Hey there! I know it has been a while. Apologies. It is getting really hard to do extra stuff since I find myself nursing around the clock lately, plus taking care of every day stuff. Finding time to write is hard. But here I am at 12:30 in the morning hoping to get rid of some pent up frustration.

Today my 14 year old told me he doesn't think I love him and his siblings. A lot of stuff happened earlier that is too much to go into, but I made a comment about how I love him and his siblings so much and asked him if he knew that. He said he didn't know. I asked again, hoping maybe I wasn't clear the first time. Yet, he said he didn't know again. I didn't know what to say after that. Luckily, the baby started crying, so I told him to clean the restroom and walked out to get the baby.

I guess I should be grateful he didn't tell me he hates me. That is what I did to my parents time and time again as a teenager. But, still, it hurt almost the same. I have raised him for 14 years, void of any extra effort, other than the required, from his dad. Yet, I am still the bad guy, as is my husband.

At times like this I try to remind myself that he knows who is really there for him and he will express his gratitude later, but I want it now. I am S.O.L., though. I know from experience. And, in situations like these, I am reminded of my mother.

My mother and I did not have the best relationship while I was growing up, but she was the one who was there. She was there through the excitement and the many times in the hospital, the gross stuff and the pretty. Don't misinterpret, I love my dad. We are good now. He was there every other weekend and on holidays and in the summer, but even then, he was absent in the real parenting. I give him credit for my faith, and my mom...she taught me how to be a mom, more specific, a parent.

She bended over backwards. She took me to where she worked so I could write my papers. She stayed up late with me finishing projects. She took me to every doctor appointment, and stayed in the hospital with me. She worried when another test had to be done or another i.v. put in for the 5th time after the other failures. She always had money for yearbooks and tennis rackets, violins and strings, hairspray and make-up. My school work came first, the housework second. If she and I had somewhere to be on the same day at the same time, my activity took precedent. Braces were paid for and a hair appointments never delayed or missed. I could go on and on, but I think you get the idea.

From her I took the lead, and have done the best I can for my son. At least I think so. Being a parent is tough. As cliche as this is, kids do not come with instructions. Many times I say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, but I am trying. I don't know if I will ever get this parenting thing down to a science, even with five kids. But, they should know I love them, right?

As much as I am doubting myself right now, I know they know I love them. They have to. Otherwise, I have failed. All I can do now is keep up with being mom and do all I can to insure their success and happiness.

Sorry if this was a little depressing, but I needed an outlet. And who better than fellow parents. Thanks for reading and being patient.