Mom's Cry Too

Sunday, November 30, 2014

Wednesday I got off work from the office early at noon. I was ecstatic to go home. I was exhausted. I had barely gotten any sleep all week { I dream a lot } and I just wanted to be with my babies. (And I wanted a nap!)

So I went home and cleaned up a bit and got a bunch of popcorn made { I'm a popcorn junkie } and told the littles they were going to play quietly while mommy watched a movie and rested. I had rented "The Fault in our Stars" and just wanted to relax.

The movie started. I just laid there and watched it. It was actually a lot better than I thought it was going to be. I'm not into sappy love stories { sometimes } and actually I try to avoid them right now. Without spoiling the movie for anyone there was a point in time where I lost it.

I had no sleep.

     I was emotionally charged because of my dreaming.

And these teenagers love.....intense. Real. Genuine.

I just started crying. My mind was whirling, "Here I am, 27, all I wanted was a family. A man. Who loved me for me. But again here I sit alone, holidays coming, children. Single mommy. Doing it by.myself."

I was having a little pity party honestly. But in reality I was really vulnerable in a moment of pain.

I started crying. And then I kept crying and it got really intense for me really fast. And I couldn't stop and my makeup was running and the next thing I knew Sophia was at my side. She asked, "Mommy, why are you crying?"

This was it. It was time to teach my children about being vulnerable. It was time to show them that I do cry and get upset. Something I rarely do. 

I responded, "Sophia, Mommies get sad too." Because we do. We do get sad, we get mad, we are selfish and we feel things. I don't know about other moms because I'm different but a lot of my feelings are held inside in front of my kids because I don't want them hurting. I don't want them seeing my vulnerable. I want them seeing me as something and someone strong. I realize however that true strength and beauty comes with exposure.

So I sat there, and she cried, and I cried, and I felt sad for my children. I felt responsible that their fathers are not as involved as I would want them to be.

And then walked in Joseph, my 16 month old son. He had a hand held towel. He walked right over to me and began wiping my face. He would babble into between, kiss my cheeks, and continue wiping. I had just written the blog post of the King who wiped the mud off the face of the dirty princess and literally felt like Jesus was confirming something in my heart through my son. Not just that but it was an example of my sons and any child's natural compassion towards the hurting. Joseph is going to be something really great one day.

He continued to wipe my face, which made me cry harder, for at least three or four minutes. And then he patted my hand and walked away. Such a bizarre and older like thing for a 16-month-old to do.

Everything is going to be ok mom. 


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