Enough?

Every once in a while, I'll read something...an article, a blog post, a facebook status...and it's a trigger. Usually it's about motherhood, or a career, or some kind of praising someone else.

Today, I read a little note that someone posted on a friends page. It said something along the lines of that they are probably so proud of their children because they've accomplished so much, and that they are proud of them too.

Nothing huge or dramatic, just nice and simple.

So why did it bother me so much? Most of the time, I can read something like that and get on with my day. But today, it's stuck in my mind. Why?

People don't come up to me and say, 'Amy, I am so proud of you for being a stay at home mother, look at how much you have accomplished!'. I don't get a pat on the back, or an award for handling a fit without losing my temper. At the end of the day, I don't get a paycheck, or a bonus for all the hard work I do. Most of the time, what I do is unnoticed. That's how it is for a lot of moms. I get it, I don't cry over it, but sometimes I want someone to tell me that they are proud of me.

I didn't go to school. I don't have a degree in anything, and I wont be graduating from something I worked so hard for. I don't feel like I've accomplished anything, and because of that, what's there to be proud of, or even recognized for?

I stay at home all day. I sweep up crumbs, and mop up juice spills, wipe dirty faces and dirty bottoms. I wash load after load after load of laundry. I clean dishes and wipe down counters. I make breakfast, lunch and dinner for kids who don't like to eat. I kiss scraped knees and bruised elbows. I yell. I lose my temper. I get mad and angry. At the end of the day, sometimes I feel like I have been suffocating all day. And no one is there to tell me 'good job!' or 'you did it!' or 'I'm proud of you'. And then I wake up the next morning and do it all over again.

Now, I'm not saying that I want praise every single day. I don't need it. I don't want it. But, when I see someone do something with their life, graduate school, get a great job, receive a raise at work or whatever, I just feel like I'm never going to have that feeling. I don't have the desire to go to work, or get a degree in something that I wont use, I just want to feel important. I give and give and give so much of myself, that sometimes, I don't even know who I am anymore.

Hannah and Sara are HORRIBLE eaters. They are like little birds who just peck at food and then they're done. Hannah is a huge drama queen and is so sassy that sometimes I have to just walk away. I can't get my kids to eat a sandwich, or have manners...so I feel like I'm failing. I'm not accomplishing motherhood, and that's the only thing I know right now. If it were a paying job, I probably would have been fired a LONG time ago. If it were school, I would have flunk out by now. Sometimes it's hard to swallow the fact that most days, my only accomplishment was keeping the kids alive. I'm supposed to keep the house clean, keep laundry clean and put away, make tasty dinners, teach my kids manners and how to be kind to others, get dressed and do my hair every day, and then be happy and loving when my husband gets home from work.

But that is so not what I'm doing. Most days, the sink is piled with dirty dishes, there are baskets of laundry waiting to be washed, or put away, but more than likely, both. I'm in sweats, my hair is greasy, there are crumbs all over the floor and the kids ate junk and watched way too much tv. It's just never ending. And then I think to myself...no wonder nobody is proud of me. I'm a mess. My kids are crazy.

In spite of all that, I know that this is what I'm supposed to be doing. Being home with my kids is the best thing for them, and for me. Yeah, some days are horrible and I want to forget all about them, but I always have a second chance the next day.

I know I'm a good mom...it's just sometimes, I don't feel like it. It's been said that one day, we will be glorified for all of our hard work as mothers, so I just need to have faith that one day...one day someone will tell me how proud they are of me.

Some days are just hard.

Anniversary

Yesterday was Brian and my 10 year anniversary. 10 years! Honestly, I can't believe we've made it this long.

A few weeks ago when my sister was here, we took a trip to Atlanta to celebrate our anniversary. It's hard getting babysitters around here, and we knew we wouldn't be able to find someone to keep them over night. It was a good trip, we were exhausted, but it was good. I was a little bummed out because my expectations of the trip were too high. I really wanted to connect with Brian, and be able to just relax and enjoy each other. We were so busy that when we got back to our hotel at the end of the day, we just crashed. There was no ounce of romance the whole trip. Nothing. But, it happened and I can't change it.

So as I said, our anniversary was yesterday. I knew that Brian probably wasn't going to get me a gift because we went to Atlanta. I knew it wasn't going to be an amazing day full of joy and excitement. I mean, we're parents and we still have a life that doesn't stop just because it's our anniversary. It was just another day.

But...I wanted something to be special about it. A few months ago, I started working on a picture book for Brian. I wanted to do something for him (even though I knew I'd get nothing), and I was really excited about it. 10 years is something to be celebrated. It's a really long time, and it's one of those milestone anniversaries (at least it is to me). I am very sentimental. I have always loved to celebrate anything, it's just my nature. Birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas...anything. I love to make a big deal out of it. Brian, on the other hand, isn't. He could care less. So, even though I knew we had already 'celebrated' our anniversary, I still wanted to do something small for him. I spent a lot of time getting pictures, figuring out the timeline of them, putting it together and getting everything just right. I really had hoped that he would like it and not think it was stupid. I also got him a really sweet card, and I wrote a note in it just for him. So, really, it wasn't anything huge, just a book and a card. More sentimental than anything.

All day long, I was so excited for him to come home and open the book. And, in the back of my mind, I was hoping...no, praying that he'd buy me some flowers, or at least a card. Something to recognize that the day was our anniversary. I really wanted something...but I was preparing myself for nothing.

So, he got home and his hands were empty. I didn't let it bother me at first, so I gave him his gift and he seemed to like it. I probably care more about the book than he does. But whatever.

And that was about it. The evening was the same as every other evening. When the kids went to bed, nothing exciting happened. All night long, I was trying so hard to not be upset, but it wasn't working. The more I thought about it, the more upset I got. I tried to not think, but it just wasn't working. I mean...10 years! Why the heck could he not stop at the store on the way home from work and pick up some flowers? He knows that I LOVE getting flowers, but he never buys them for me. I don't even remember the last time he gave me flowers. I would have thought that because it was our 10 year anniversary, he would have done something small. But he didn't.

I'm trying not to be sad about it, but I am. I feel like because we made it 10 whole years, with everything that has happened, things we've done, all of our lows (which have been a lot), the day should have had something special about it. I really would have be content with a card. It almost feel like as time goes by, things get less special. I remember when he would get me cards, or flowers for my birthday, an anniversary or Valentines Day. Not anymore though. And, I should be used to getting nothing by now. Why am I so upset over it? I knew it was going to happen...or not happen, I guess. I told myself that he wouldn't be bringing anything home. Sometimes though, I hate being right.

It shouldn't matter, but it does. I'm having a really hard time letting it go. But, I can't talk to him about it because yesterday was yesterday. We'll never have another 10 year anniversary. He can't buy me flowers tomorrow and say they were for yesterday. In fact, I said something about getting flowers, and he made some lame excuse. That hurt even more.

And then I think...I'm being totally selfish. I don't need anything, I shouldn't want anything. I should be happy and fine with a little kiss and a 'happy anniversary'. Why should I get anything else? I shouldn't be so selfish.

But, it still hurts. I'm still sad. And it's just one more thing to get over.

Feelings

Today, it has been 4 weeks since I started taking the Wellbutrin, and honestly, I don't feel any different. I know that it can take up to 6 weeks to feel the effects, but I'm really annoyed. I have felt so bad for so long, I was hoping that by now, I'd start to feel something. I still struggle every day to get out of bed. I still struggle to get things done, and I still have a feeling of hopelessness. I don't want to go out and do things, I want to just stay in my pjs, lay in bed and watch tv all day.

And to top it all off, I can't wake up. I have been so incredibly tired for the past week. I want to sleep, but even when I do, it's not enough. I've had this problem before though...just another symptom of depression. It blows.

My sister was here for the past two weeks almost, and went home last Friday. I so enjoyed having her here, but now I just miss my family more. Brian and I celebrate our 10 year anniversary next week, so that means I've been away from them for 10 years! I would love nothing more than to live closer. Not necessarily in Idaho, but close enough that we could drive to see them without it taking days and days. I hate that my family doesn't get to see my kids grow up. They get pictures and maybe a trip once a year, but they miss out on everything. I miss them. My heart aches because I miss them so much. I don't know how to take that away either. Sometimes I just want to be able to talk to my mom face to face, and have a shoulder to cry on. It would be nice to take my kids over there during the day to play so I could get a break. I want them apart of their lives and it makes me sad that this is the way it is. And I can't change it either. Brian said he'd move if he had a job that paid the right amount of money, but his idea of the right amount is insane and probably will never find it. It's irritating and depressing.

Anyway, I just woke up with a lot on my mind today. I'm hoping this week isn't bad...I'm trying. I really am.