A Prayer Warrior aka A Mom

Greetings readers! I totally missed my March 15th blog post. If I were a check, you would be pissed. This thing called life can sometimes get in the way. I am committed to doing a better job! Please forgive me. Now on to my latest offering….

A person’s spiritual walk is highly personal. I respect that. Most religions do recognize some form of prayer. If you are a mother, please get familiar. Sometimes that is the only power you have. King has had a few colds but way fewer than the doctor claims to be the average/norm. In the beginning, every time he had “something” that lasted more than 2 days I would take him to the pediatrician. The doctor would happily take my 20 dollar co-pay and tell me there was nothing he could do. Papa Bear would laugh at Yeye and I; calling us money trees. “You must like to give away money” he said.

I would debate the doctor each time and take my sniffling baby home. After a while google and my mid-wife friends became my doctor. Hyland’s homeopathic products and Babyganics are my remedies of choice. Still there are times when nothing works, your baby is miserable and you feel helpless. But you are not helpless. There is a free antidote called prayer and nobody has to instruct you on what to do. It simply comes from your heart, gut and brain.

King is a rambunctious 15 month old. Watching him makes me tired but when he doesn’t feel well I miss the energizer bunny. Oddly enough when I put my hand on his head and start to pray out loud, he sits still and allows me to. Sometimes my prayer can last 5 minutes and that is an eternity for a toddler. He sits and watches me wide eyed as I pray for each part of his body and his overall wellbeing. As soon as I say Amen his is off to the races again.

Recently, my sun got a respiratory virus. His breathing, especially at night was labored and he was forced to breathe through his mouth. This made sleepy nearly impossible since he is a thumb sucker. Even the cynical Papa Bear felt some kind of way; tapping me in the early morning, “Uh, you need to go ahead and make that appointment”.

So I did. They administered some albuterol, which did nothing for him. They prescribed a saline treatment (which you can purchased over the counter) for him and told us we had to wait it out. Oh and by the way, this virus can last up to 2 weeks. I had to pray right then and there not to slap the dog piss out of the on call doctor that favored Mr. Rogers. He wasn’t getting rid of me that fast. He had to quote research to me, show me how well King was oxygenated on a machine and repeat himself several times before I left his office.

King is on the upswing no thanks to Mr. Rogers. The body is a miraculous thing. It is designed to heal itself. Mothers are designed to protect their cubs. You and I must always remember when we do not know what else to do, we can always pray. It’s free and you feel empowered.


Mom Guilt

I am doing my best but I don’t think that it is good enough. As an unmarried woman; being a stay home Mom didn’t seem like a smart choice even though it was offered to me. There was also the unattractive disclaimer that our lifestyle would drastically change if I decided to stop working. Leaving my baby has also been a choice that I have never been 100% comfortable with. It stressed me out so much in the early months that my milk supply dried up. I gave myself my first F in motherhood when this happened. I struggled for months to get my supply back up. I eventually gave up when King was 7 months. My son does not sleep through the night. I have tried sleep training but allowing my son to cry for more than an hour feels like child abuse. Yeye allowed him to cry for 2 hours when I wasn’t home one day. Oy vey! His will is stronger than mine. And as guilt ridden parent it is hard for me to allow him to cry during the limited time we do have together. I spend more time at work helping other people’s children than I do with my own child. Something is wrong with that but hey, this is America. I get a big fat F in sleeping training. I’m on a roll!

I’m sure that I am not alone when I worry incessantly about f—ing it up. How do I guarantee he listens to jazz and classical music when I’m away from him? Is he being read to? How can I make sure that the TV isn’t on all day long around him? Although I’m not a TV Nazi mom, I do want to limit his screen time. Sometimes I’m so exhausted after work all I want to do is sit on the couch and watch my DVR Wendy Williams episodes and have a glass of wine. On days like those polygamy seems very attractive. I could really use a sister-wife to make dinner, take King to the park or give him a bath. On second thought, I would feel guilty if I didn’t do everything myself. Never mind imaginary sister-wife, you go ahead and take a nap because I will never be able to again.

Mom guilt is a terrible drug. It is addictive. It gives you many examples of how you are not good enough. It is a demon you constantly have to fight. Sometimes I’m too tired to fight so I just sit in hell. All is not lost, however. Maybe I did one thing right by becoming an educator, I have the summers off. At least I have that time to try to make up for the ten months away from King. Two Fs and an A give me about a C-. So maybe I’m not failing. But growing up I could never bring home a C. Because average means you are doing the bare minimum but I swear, I am doing my absolute best!