13 Weeks and Weepy

We hit the 13 week mark today and I have spent most of it in tears for one reason or another.

It started out this morning with my two overly energetic older children just pestering the heck out of one another instead of.... eating breakfast, putting on their shoes, putting their lunches in their backpacks. Back and forth, back and forth. I had two sisters growing up and I never remember bickering like that in the morning. Ok, I am sure I am wrong about that and I could call and ask my mom if I wanted to verify it. But, they are two years and two months apart and sometimes just drive me nutty. So, there I was sitting on the bottom step trying to put on my own shoes so I could take them to school and I break down into tears. "I'm the worst mom ever, I cannot believe that God is giving us another chance for another baby when I am apparently not up for the job." Tears just fell on my legs and my son came in. He saw me and beelined it to his sister in the kitchen. "Mama's crying".

Now, I have taught fifth grade for umpteen million years and I swear those kids upset me sometimes too. I never, ever, ever let them make me cry (oh, it's happened to some teachers and the outcome is not pretty). My own kids on the other hand? I am not a morning person and the bickering can just about drive me crazy. Not to say they do it all the time, but this morning, enough was enough.

So yeah, it was a quiet ride to school this morning with an "I'm sorry Mama" on the way out. "I love you, have a good day," was the response. Thank goodness hubby was still sleeping for work and got up in enough time for me to get a nap. A two hour nap this afternoon. I needed that.

So things are good after school, my crazy children are back to their old selves. We do the whole dinner/bath/bedtime routine and I settle down to watch my dvr'd Oprah shows. I guess I am not the worst mother in America. Apparently, this Wanda Barzee lady is. Yikes. Then on to Fantasia and Ruby and here comes American Idol. Did anyone bring the tissues?

The last story of the night featured a young lady from Texas that used to save her school lunch to bring home for her hungry younger brother. She comes from a large family that was quite poor. I'm already bawling. As a teacher, especially with the little first graders last year, I know the hurt that some of these kids go through. I was so happy that during the school day I knew that each of my students ate breakfast, snack and lunch. I know that some of them didn't have dinner when they went home (something that not even a call to social services would fix). If they were fifth graders, I wouldn't have been as worried. Fifth graders are big enough to go and make themselves a sandwich or to ask for food. My little guys... well, when the year ended, I was so worried about who was going to feed them over the summer. And having been a child on welfare myself, I know all to well how it is not to be sure if there are enough groceries in the house to feed everyone.

And then.... she starts singing "I Hope You Dance" by Leann Womack. This song. This song in particular I hold very dear to my heart. It was out the time my oldest son was born. A son that was born crying and, I swear, didn't stop until he was two years old. We lived outside of Seattle at the time. Jacob was born in December and that meant that it got dark at about 3:30 in the afternoon. I don't even remember when Bob used to get home from work, but it was the worst time of the day... that dark. the dark and waiting for some help with the uncontrollably crying baby who didn't have colic or anything else wrong with him. Nothing. Just fussed and fussed and fussed so that I would be crying and he would be crying. We were a mess.

One of the things that I used to do was to turn on the radio and dance with him. I would play that song over and over and over. It gave me hope that one day he will be older and I would want to encourage him to live life, to take chances. I thought that one day, odd as it seems, that it would be the song we played at his wedding for his mother/son dance. That day is still so far in the future, but then, in the dark, it gave me hope. And now, every time I hear it, I just remember myself as a new mom, crying in the dark with my baby who wouldn't stop crying.

Oh goodness... would someone please pass me the tissues!!!