I thought I would get up early anyways. So when Levi woke me up at 4:15am, and after feeding him a bottle I was laying in bed trying to stop my brain from it's 100 mph planning of Jackson's birthday party and attempting to ignore the hunger/nausea that was creeping in, I begrudgingly said "I might as well start my day at 5:15... ugh."
For two mornings in a row I had planned to wake up early with my husband in an attempt to get some quiet me time and quiet God time in before the little ones demanded my attention. For two mornings in a row my plans were foiled by a sick husband who didn't get up at his butt-crack of dawn alarm going off. I mean really, doesn't he know that my plans didn't make room for his sick day. I know what your thinking, "Cat, why didn't you just set your own alarm?" It's not like I don't have one. In fact I have a possible three. The wonderful iHome my husband got me for Christmas does more than just charge my iPhone, apparently it has other capabilities. Of course the iPhone I just mentioned also has some pretty snazzy settings. The third is the iPad that my amazing, albeit plan foiling, husband surprised me with on Christmas morning. Yes, I use my iPad for more than playing games and updating my facebook status, deafening alarms is not one of them. I am fully capable of finding the alarm setting on all three devices, but who wants to wake up to that much noise? Especially when your usual wake up call is a two year old emphatically expressing his need for food. "Yes honey, I'll feed you... in a few minutes." Unfortunately this snooze button doesn't always work. I much rather hear the shower running, or my husband quietly tapping me on the shoulder telling me how much he loves me as he leaves to support his family of five. On this third morning my one year old alarm was way too early. Three boys, three devices, three mornings in a row. My favorite number is three, but now we are getting ridiculous.
The reason for my desires for an early start? I know you are dieing to know. Because, really, what mother of a four, two and one year old doesn't want to get up at six in the morning (or 4:15), especially after an uninterrupted eight hours of sleep? (man I'm sarcastic at 6:25 am) I have a confession to make. My attitude has been poop as of late. For about a week I was beyond irritated, easily annoyed, and, I'm afraid to admit, not a very good mom. My voice was reaching a "you are so in trouble" pitch more often than not, my fun mode was nonexistent, and for some reason I couldn't find time for my kids throughout the day. All their needs were being met. They were fed, bathed, clothed, teeth brushed, diapers changed, and preschool homework done. I was even vigilantly potty training #2. But my attitude through all of it (except for potty training because I was truly ecstatic over not having to pay for so many diapers) was virtually poop (sorry for the potty training language).
Like most I had my reasons, five years of sleep deprivation resides at the top of the list, but none of them were excuses. I truly love my job but wasn't showing it. God has let me borrow the three most precious blessings in the world and has arranged for me to care for them all day, every day (some days longer than others) and the appreciation wasn't shining through. Now don't get me wrong, not every moment is easy to appreciate. In fact, most moments in a stay-at-home moms day are hard to smile through. But I think the important thing is to try. Just as we battle with sin as sinners, moms battle with smiling through the poop (literally and figuratively). But God knows this. I think it's important to at least attempt to do better.
God gave me these three boys for a reason. To raise them with Him and for Him. And, if I truly believe that, I must live it. So I'm waking up early to have those quiet moments with my Lord and Savior, so later when my situation may not warrant a smile maybe God will smack one on my face for me. Even if I feel like poop.
