I'm staring at my kitchen table. My husband is reading the Sunday paper. And, my four sons are sitting and all eating breakfast. It's a rarity to witness this. I can't even tell you the last time this happened. Something about watching them brought me to tears and I left the room with my coffee. Now I'm sitting here in front of my computer.
I don't know how I got so lucky. I don't know how I was lucky enough to get to be the mom to these incredible human beings. They are brothers from another mother, as I like to joke. But, at the end of the day, they are my boys; they are my heart and soul, literally. They are my everything, they are my all. When they are happy, I am as well. When they are sad, I hurt. When someone hurts them, I feel my heart breaking. I don't know what I did to become so lucky. Here come the tears again.
There are days I feel I fail them...all of them. Lately, I feel it moreso. It's that time of year where our schedule gets crazy. Baseball season is upon us. In the past, every night is a different game, a different field, bone chilling cold watching a game and late night dinner pick ups. The weather hasn't allowed for a lot of games thus far, except at the high school level. It's the first year he's playing. And, I'm missing it. Not because it's too cold or I'm at another game. I am at work. He understands. Everyone understands. But I am overwhelmed with guilt and tears. I love my job. I feel appreciated at my job---which is a first for me. I love my employer. I truly feel so lucky to be working where I am. Enter more tears. But with any situation, nothing is ever 100% perfect. And, in this situation, I am missing out on baseball season. Sure, there will be games I will be at. And, this year, I will have to treasure them.
What makes me so lucky is that my children understand the situation. They aren't upset or angry or disappointed even. They are remarkable people who don't make me feel badly or guilty for missing out. Yes, they comment that they wish I had been there. That is to be expected. But, they don't ever get angry with me. Neither does my husband. He's bearing the brunt of all of this. He works all day, comes home and starts the shuttle and dinner service. He packs lunches too. He's tired and worn out and when I do get home, he barely has the energy for a conversation. But, he does not complain. We do talk about it, how his days are exhausting, and sometimes he's crabby and it's best to leave him be. I feel badly about this. I try not to nit pick about things not being done "my way". Still, I admit to doing it sometimes. I'm me. I'm a control freak. This is a daily lesson on how to let some things go. I need to work on it. It's hard. More tears. The truth is, I am lucky. Even if things aren't done my way or if things aren't being held to "my standards", they are being done, whereas, in a lot of other households or families, they wouldn't be. Sure, there is some more arguing and short tempers due to lack of sleep, but at the end of the day, everything is getting done. I am lucky. I'm lucky that the brothers from another mother get to have a dad who makes sure they don't miss out on anything while this mom has taken on a new schedule. More tears. Time for my coffee....maybe I should switch to decaf.