How many times I’ve cried and almost lost it. How many times I’ve thought of ending the pain and the ongoing disappointment and then the guilt that follows that. How many times I’ve thrown my hands up in frustration. How many times I’ve had no emotion at all. How many times I’ve compared myself to others and realized how I’ve fallen short. How I’ve looked at their social media and felt so angry. How many times I’ve thought out how to leave so they’d be better off. Because, sometimes, I think they would be.
How many times do their words or actions cut me to the core? How many times I’ve cried myself to sleep? How many times I’ve prayed and yelled and ranted to God as to why this has to be so hard.
Because it is….so very hard. I’m clearly not doing something right. Or they wouldn’t make these choices. They wouldn’t treat themselves or me the way they do.
But I keep moving forward. I hug and kiss and hug some more. I say I love you. I check on them. I discipline them. I love them with my whole heart, often sacrificing myself or my activities so they’re happy. I can be happy later. Right now I just want to do what I can with what I’ve got to get them grown.
I’ll still pray. I’ll still love and I’ll still be their mom.