I Need Help

I almost titled this, "I Wish I Was Indian", but figured that was slightly inappropriate or politically incorrect.  So I decided to use my filter and only say that in the body of the blog.  But in all honesty, I say it with the utmost respect.  The Indian culture has it right, they have it all figured out.  

In the several years that I've been teaching childbirth classes, we have always discussed a postpartum plan.  How will you take care of yourself and be sure you get enough sleep?  Where will your meals come from so you can be sure to eat a healthy and balanced diet?  Who will clean and wash clothes so you don't have to?

EVERYONE looks at me in fear, or they at least shrug their shoulders and say they don't know who is going to do those things for them.  The lucky ones at least have a Sunday School class that will provide meals for a week or two.  But without fail, I have an Indian couple who tentatively raises their hand to each of those questions and says, "My mother will do those things."

Cue jaws dropping.

Generations of people living in the same (usually giant) house.  It's brilliant.  It's natural.  It's balanced.

Having been a stay at home mom for just 4 and 1/2 short years, I am convinced now more than ever that we are not designed to live in complete isolation for hours on end, taking care of our children on our own.

In the beginning I thought it was just supposed to be hard, that we had to just figure things out.  And yes, I have acquired more strength than I ever thought imaginable.  I have been tested.  I have proven to myself over and over again that I can survive when things are really really hard.

Like tonight.

No one napped.  No one.  So 3 o'clock on was basically the stuff that nightmares are made of.  Tantrums.  Snotty, drippy, whiny, screaming preschoolers in my face for HOURS.  Where's my back up?  Where is help when I genuinely feel like I can't go on?  It doesn't really matter what happens.  If I suddenly get a stomach bug, if I wake up with strep throat, if I have a migraine headache, if I'm 42 weeks pregnant and having contractions, it doesn't matter.  I am on my own.  Suck it up and figure it out because everyone else who loves my kids as much as I do is at work.  That's just the way it is...

...but is that the way it's supposed to be?

When I started teaching at Texas Children's a couple of years ago, I hired a cleaning lady to come every other week.  I felt embarrassed that I wasn't able to do it all myself and I was concerned that people would think I was doing it as a status symbol or because I'm a brat (which I may have a touch of brat in me).  But it was one of the greatest things I've done.  It's another form of asking for help, dropping my pride so I can do something that is good for my family.  It helps Troy to feel more 'zen' because it at least means the house has a chance of staying clean for 48-72 hours.  And it gives me more time to spend with my boys and keeps my frustration level down.  But it's still not FAMILY.  It's still not the support I so long for, the guarantee that someone has my back 24/7 if needed like I crave.

I joke in a text to a friend that I'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown.  With a smile on my face, I tell my poor mom every other week to retire.  But I'm not really joking.  

In jest, though a tiny part of me may not have been kidding, I asked my mother-in-law if she would move in with us.  She spoils me so by taking pleasure in helping with our laundry and dishes.  Though it embarrasses me that it's not all done and I think I should be able to do it all, I have learned to try and graciously accept her help and not assume that she's judging the layer-of-filth-got-hit-by-a-hurricane-declared-a-disaster-area state of my house.  

In the Indian culture, they have the opportunity to pass their knowledge and wisdom on to their kids day by day.  When mom isn't feeling well (or is on the brink of a nervous breakdown), Grandma can sweep in and take over.  They say it takes a village and I have never known that to be more true than I do at this phase of my life.

And I am lucky in that I have an INCREDIBLE village after 6:30 on the weekdays, either Troy gets home or help is only a phone call away if I need to call my parents or Troy's mom for help.

I have gotten really really good at asking for help if I need it.  If they can't help for whatever reason, they can say no, but I am no longer hesitant to ask for help if I need it.  That has been a humbling experience because for some reason, from the beginning I have thought that I should be able to do it all on my own.  But I can't.  I really really can't.  I need help.  

Aaaaand when it rains, it pours.  I'm cutting this blog short and will not be going back to edit or double check that it makes sense....because Troy just popped his head into the office to say that Turner is throwing up.  If it weren't SO NOT funny, I just might have to laugh.