Miracle

I was reading the blog of a girl that I know, only on the Internet, not in real life, or IRL. She was saying how she can sort of understand why women who are lucky enough to get pregnant and have kids complain about them, because she complains about her dogs and she loves them, but she just can't understand WHINING about a miracle like being able to have children.

It was the whining that fell hard on my ear. Also, it might have made me feel guilty because I do my fair share (and probably some other people's) of complaining about how HARD my life is. Also, I just had a baby sixteen months after I had my previous baby and I may have complained about that a little bit. Or a lot.

I do talk a lot about how hard my life is, how bad my kids are, how shocked I still am that I just had another child. But doesn't everyone? I mean, in a way? NOT Mother Teresa, or lots of Good People, but regular people? I feel in many ways like I am just calling it like I see it - lots of days, being a mother can suck. My mom used to tell me, when Anthony was little, to 'think of the Blessed Virgin' and I would tell her, 'I'm pretty sure he's not the Son of God, Mom'. I do pray and ask the BVM to pray for me, I look to her for guidance and I say the Memorae a LOT.

Of course I recognize that my children, that all children, are miracles. I look at that baby's perfect little ear when she's nursing and I can't get over it. But that doesn't stop me from feeling tired the fourth time she's up in the night. I think Maria is gorgeous and beautiful and a slice of heaven but when she screams in my ear? It hurts. If Anthony stomps on my foot, which he does several times a DAY, it hurts! Even from his little miracle foot!

I try, try try to be grateful, and every day I fail. I am just, at this point, hoping to fail a little less. Or more quietly.