With the birth of our beautiful babies, I have made an executive decision to rename our blogsite. You can now view the latest comedic occurrences and happenings in our family at www.yasuifamily.blogspot.com
Since Mac and Rayla are here, it's silly to keep blogging under "yasuitwinsontheway" cause they ain't no longer on the way!
Don't worry, I'll still keep the funnies and I seem to have a new outlook on the blogging.....Oh, how this should be fun!!!
Friday, May 22, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
The Test
Strength. Is it measured by my physical ability to do something? Is it measured by my mental status? Is it measured by my emotional ability to get through a situation? I'm always wondering if people see me as a "strong" person. I think I act stronger than I really am to be honest, but, I still think I am a strong person. How strong is strong enough, though?
I didn't have an easy early childhood. Between the drugs that I saw my mother drown herself in, and the abuse I was subjected to by my stepfather, it's a surprise that I'm the person that I am today. But I vowed to myself at a very young age that I would not, under any circumstance, allow myself to fall like my parents did. Not only would I succeed within myself, but I would make sure that my children were raised with morals, with support and most of all, love. At the ripe age of 11, I was adopted by my grandparents, who were godsends. They thought that they would have some work to do with me because of the trauma I had sustained, but I had made up my mind long before they stepped in that I was going to be a better person than the two people who I called parents while I was young. As I look back on that period in my life, I see it almost as if it really wasn't me who was there. I remember it like a book that I have read, and somehow relate and completely understand. That must have been my first true test of strength. Maybe it was a test of faith. If it was a test of faith, what in the world was God thinking??!!
After I relocated with my grandparents my life became grand. I lived my teen years much like any teenager should. I was a good kid, worked hard in school, did chores, got paid for those chores, and respected my grandparents wholly. My senior year in high school was somewhat different than many other students experienced, however. Most kids were applying for college, meeting with advisors, testing for college and scoping out the locations of the next 4 or 5 years of their continuing education. Not me. I was working, and didn't really have the push to apply for college. I wasn't pushed by my grandparents much to further my education. It wasn't their fault at all. They had been wonderful parents to me, giving me everything I needed to succeed in all that I did while I was living with them. But when it came to college they just didn't know what to do. Maybe I should have been more proactive - I didn't know what to do, either. All of their friends were, well, grandparents too, and nobody knew the college scene, what was needed to be done, or the kind of work it took to apply, test for and get into college. After high school my grandpa finally sat me down to talk to me about my future. Work, he said, and you'll be fine. Or, maybe you can go to a trade school. He was so out of date, he called it a trade school. I knew then that it was up to me to decide my future, as it should be. And, I was OK with that.
After a few ups and downs with some decisions I made after high school (First husband being the largest mistake), I found my niche. It was motherhood. I was a young mother, but somehow I just knew what to do. I worked my butt off to make sure my daughter had all she needed and that I was still able to be a good mother to her. It was tough, but I did it, and I did so without government aid. Not too many people can say that. I'm proud to be one of the few single mothers strong enough to do it on my own. Strength test number two.
Now, as I look into my living room I see my 11 year old daughter doing her homework, my two year old son playing with Thomas the train, and my newborn twin girls gurgling at each other, all hoping that I'll plop some food in their mouths soon. It's work unlike any job I've ever held - Being a mother of four, that is. Lucky for me the girls aren't identical and I can tell which one I've fed last. Poor Cooper has entered his "terrible two's" and has the tendency to scream when he doesn't get what he wants, or throw himself into a fish like tantrum on the floor. I try to console him when my hands are free, but anymore that isn't too often. Hormones are raging in Katie, and her current stresses of school tests, overloads of homework and softball are recipe for outbursts that seem smack-worthy and back talking unlike anything I've ever experienced.
Each morning I usually wake up with a baby in my arms, one or two more fussing, Katie getting ready for school and Corey getting ready for work. Everyone's hungry, everyone wants up, and everyone wants it NOW. Honestly, I should just sleep in my clothes. It's five or ten minutes after I get up for the day before I am actually able to pick a child up and tend to their needs. I wake, I throw on the nearest thing I see to cover my ass, grab a shirt out of my drawer, put my dirty hair up in a clip, pee and head out into life. I'm never presentable and I hope constantly that someone doesn't just drop by to say hi. Sometimes I'm in holey shirts and grubby shorts all day, which is not something I'm real proud of or that I've ever allowed myself to do in the past. I often don't get my teeth brushed until my second pee break, sometime between 11 and 2 if the children have all gone down and I don't have something on the stove. I sometimes forget until late afternoon when it dawns on me that my teeth just don't feel right. I have called a friend or two once or twice in the past couple of months just to chat, but, people must be afraid to call me for one reason or another as it's been months since I've heard from many of my friends. My husband and I are both tired from working all day, and evenings seem so chaotic no matter the day. Corey and I have never had a real fight in all 8 years we've been together, but I might have yelled at him last night. It was a surprise for both of us and I think I heard him exclaim, "please, don't divorce me!!" In this economy? Not a chance, babe!! He's so busy at work, comes home to utter chaos, and still wants to find ways to make things easier for me. He's a good man.
I believe that this time in my life is the next strength test. Will I be OK? Can I continue to be a good mom, and will I ever be the wife I once was? I have felt my sanity slipping on a couple of occasions, and have felt the sadness of an unhappy loved one who is feeling neglected, maybe even rejected, a time or two. I know, nobody ever said this was going to be easy, but wow was I in for a shock. My work is certainly cut out for me, but I'm up for the challenge. My wonderful mother in law is back in action here at the house, helping out when she can. She came yesterday and I was able to nap with Cooper. Today during her visit I was finally able to take a shower after three whole days...ugh. Tomorrow she'll come late morning for a couple of hours while Cooper and I have some "me and mommy" time. It's been months, so that will be nice. Friday she's offered to watch the kids while I go do something for myself. I trust her whole heartedly, but I think I'll ask Kim to stop in to hang out just so that there's an extra set of hands. I do it 24 hours a day and have done so for nearly 8 weeks.......It's still overwhelming for me at times.
So friends, can I do it? I believe so. I might break down and cry every now and again, yell out of frustration at one one of my children on occasion, or even snap at my husband when he's trying to help. But, in the end, I only mean well. And if I fail somehow in this strength test, maybe what I really need then is a stress test to straighten me out. At least, for today, I'm clean. That's a good start.
I didn't have an easy early childhood. Between the drugs that I saw my mother drown herself in, and the abuse I was subjected to by my stepfather, it's a surprise that I'm the person that I am today. But I vowed to myself at a very young age that I would not, under any circumstance, allow myself to fall like my parents did. Not only would I succeed within myself, but I would make sure that my children were raised with morals, with support and most of all, love. At the ripe age of 11, I was adopted by my grandparents, who were godsends. They thought that they would have some work to do with me because of the trauma I had sustained, but I had made up my mind long before they stepped in that I was going to be a better person than the two people who I called parents while I was young. As I look back on that period in my life, I see it almost as if it really wasn't me who was there. I remember it like a book that I have read, and somehow relate and completely understand. That must have been my first true test of strength. Maybe it was a test of faith. If it was a test of faith, what in the world was God thinking??!!
After I relocated with my grandparents my life became grand. I lived my teen years much like any teenager should. I was a good kid, worked hard in school, did chores, got paid for those chores, and respected my grandparents wholly. My senior year in high school was somewhat different than many other students experienced, however. Most kids were applying for college, meeting with advisors, testing for college and scoping out the locations of the next 4 or 5 years of their continuing education. Not me. I was working, and didn't really have the push to apply for college. I wasn't pushed by my grandparents much to further my education. It wasn't their fault at all. They had been wonderful parents to me, giving me everything I needed to succeed in all that I did while I was living with them. But when it came to college they just didn't know what to do. Maybe I should have been more proactive - I didn't know what to do, either. All of their friends were, well, grandparents too, and nobody knew the college scene, what was needed to be done, or the kind of work it took to apply, test for and get into college. After high school my grandpa finally sat me down to talk to me about my future. Work, he said, and you'll be fine. Or, maybe you can go to a trade school. He was so out of date, he called it a trade school. I knew then that it was up to me to decide my future, as it should be. And, I was OK with that.
After a few ups and downs with some decisions I made after high school (First husband being the largest mistake), I found my niche. It was motherhood. I was a young mother, but somehow I just knew what to do. I worked my butt off to make sure my daughter had all she needed and that I was still able to be a good mother to her. It was tough, but I did it, and I did so without government aid. Not too many people can say that. I'm proud to be one of the few single mothers strong enough to do it on my own. Strength test number two.
Now, as I look into my living room I see my 11 year old daughter doing her homework, my two year old son playing with Thomas the train, and my newborn twin girls gurgling at each other, all hoping that I'll plop some food in their mouths soon. It's work unlike any job I've ever held - Being a mother of four, that is. Lucky for me the girls aren't identical and I can tell which one I've fed last. Poor Cooper has entered his "terrible two's" and has the tendency to scream when he doesn't get what he wants, or throw himself into a fish like tantrum on the floor. I try to console him when my hands are free, but anymore that isn't too often. Hormones are raging in Katie, and her current stresses of school tests, overloads of homework and softball are recipe for outbursts that seem smack-worthy and back talking unlike anything I've ever experienced.
Each morning I usually wake up with a baby in my arms, one or two more fussing, Katie getting ready for school and Corey getting ready for work. Everyone's hungry, everyone wants up, and everyone wants it NOW. Honestly, I should just sleep in my clothes. It's five or ten minutes after I get up for the day before I am actually able to pick a child up and tend to their needs. I wake, I throw on the nearest thing I see to cover my ass, grab a shirt out of my drawer, put my dirty hair up in a clip, pee and head out into life. I'm never presentable and I hope constantly that someone doesn't just drop by to say hi. Sometimes I'm in holey shirts and grubby shorts all day, which is not something I'm real proud of or that I've ever allowed myself to do in the past. I often don't get my teeth brushed until my second pee break, sometime between 11 and 2 if the children have all gone down and I don't have something on the stove. I sometimes forget until late afternoon when it dawns on me that my teeth just don't feel right. I have called a friend or two once or twice in the past couple of months just to chat, but, people must be afraid to call me for one reason or another as it's been months since I've heard from many of my friends. My husband and I are both tired from working all day, and evenings seem so chaotic no matter the day. Corey and I have never had a real fight in all 8 years we've been together, but I might have yelled at him last night. It was a surprise for both of us and I think I heard him exclaim, "please, don't divorce me!!" In this economy? Not a chance, babe!! He's so busy at work, comes home to utter chaos, and still wants to find ways to make things easier for me. He's a good man.
I believe that this time in my life is the next strength test. Will I be OK? Can I continue to be a good mom, and will I ever be the wife I once was? I have felt my sanity slipping on a couple of occasions, and have felt the sadness of an unhappy loved one who is feeling neglected, maybe even rejected, a time or two. I know, nobody ever said this was going to be easy, but wow was I in for a shock. My work is certainly cut out for me, but I'm up for the challenge. My wonderful mother in law is back in action here at the house, helping out when she can. She came yesterday and I was able to nap with Cooper. Today during her visit I was finally able to take a shower after three whole days...ugh. Tomorrow she'll come late morning for a couple of hours while Cooper and I have some "me and mommy" time. It's been months, so that will be nice. Friday she's offered to watch the kids while I go do something for myself. I trust her whole heartedly, but I think I'll ask Kim to stop in to hang out just so that there's an extra set of hands. I do it 24 hours a day and have done so for nearly 8 weeks.......It's still overwhelming for me at times.
So friends, can I do it? I believe so. I might break down and cry every now and again, yell out of frustration at one one of my children on occasion, or even snap at my husband when he's trying to help. But, in the end, I only mean well. And if I fail somehow in this strength test, maybe what I really need then is a stress test to straighten me out. At least, for today, I'm clean. That's a good start.
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