April 09, 2006
Britni - 25
Los Angeles, CA
1 son (6 mo)
This weekend I got a glimpse of what life might look like if my beloved has to go upstate. My family went out of town, so it’s just me and the little one. Although I love having the place to ourselves, I must admit it’s a bit lonely. I love my son, but there are only so many times I can play peak-a-boo. There are only so many stories I can read. Only so many times I can dance him around the room until I need a break. Who do you turn to when there’s no one to give you a break? I don’t mean that I need a babysitter, I have one. But just an hour or two, a nap, a chance to read a magazine, some alone time so I can regroup and play with him again. Times like these I wish my beloved were here. What am I saying? I wish he were here all the time. I wish he could play with our son. I wish we could pack up the car and head to the park for a day out. I wish he could give him a bath. Anything. Everything.Today the little one and I went to target to pick up a few things. When I go to target I love to look around at everything and I usually spend way too much money. But today, I browsed the home stuff—curtains, bedding, bathroom goodies, etc., and all I kept thinking about was “When _____ comes home we’ll decorate our house really nicely.” I kept thinking about our apartment in Brooklyn, and how we picked out everything together. How we decorated it, carried it from Ikea in Jersey (on the subway) and adorned our place the way we wanted. I miss that. I miss having my own space. I love my mom for letting me stay and save money, but there’s nothing like having your own space. I feel like our life is on pause. There are so many things I’d like to do, namely move into our own apartment, but I can’t. I don’t want to do anything big until I know what’s going to happen with my beloved. So I wait. And I wish. *Britni talks about motherhood at http://www.theprisonerswife.blogspot.com
Our version of perfect
Ebony - 35
4 Children - 1 girl (9) and 3 boys (4) (1 ½) (3 mo) I've always wanted to be one of those mothers who was always on the move. Cooking my kids nutritious lunches and dinners. Oatmeal for breakfast on cold days to warm their insides up. House didn't need to be spotless, but presentable at the very least. Taking them to the park to play. I pictured us having picnic dinners in the living room floor "just because" and clean clothes folded and put away nicely in the drawers. You know, very June Cleaver like. Instead I'm very Peggy Bundy like.
But then I never expected to be separated with 4 kids, no car (the bus is no fun with a double stroller let me tell you), no support and getting just enough temp jobs to pay the rent. and. nothing. else.
I'm always rushing to make it out the door by 7 a.m. and when I roll back in at 7 p.m. I sit down and watch Jeopardy. Then I drag myself into the kitchen to make "something" for dinner, then it's of to bed for the kids. The house often doesn't get cleaned until the weekend, if then. I yell more than I want to, read less than I like and want to throw up when I even see a beaver on TV.
Today on the way home on the dreaded bus, as my kids were happily playing with each other, and even my three month old laughed, a woman said, "You got your hands full, but they sure are happy kids." I smiled and thought, "June Cleaver ain't got nothin’ on me."
I may not have turned out to be the mother I always thought I would be, but my kids are healthy and happy and I'm just the mama I need to be.
Still holding on
April 3, 2006
Schunetta Burns-Wilson - 31
4 Step-Children: 3 girls (13), (10), (8) and 1 boy (4)
The Sunday School lesson for the week was "Living With Tragedy" so fitting for my life and for what appeared to be a recent tragedy for me.
It’s now been eight weeks and my little munchkin has gone; short lived but yet I trust Him. I am still looking forward to Motherhood, it’s just…. where did you go baby? What happened Lord to the little blessing inside of me?
God answers all prayers and so with that I know and trust that it was not time. Yet again I name it and claim it that Motherhood is coming just for me. As funny as it seems, my husband just doesn’t understand all that I am feeling. Yet I trust that God will work on and through us both to get through what appears to be a tragedy. I often think and daydream about what was wrong with my baby. Was it a girl or a boy dark like mommy or stocky like daddy? Whatever the cause I know the cure is Jesus.
Read Schunetta's previous posts:What Gratitude Will Get YouOperation: Stepping into Motherhood