Back to That Raw Stuff

So I looked back at my previous posts, and, since I'm only posting when I'm having Mommy issues, it seems this happens about once a week. This weekend has been kind of funky, though. Don't know why, but the past few days, I've been in a weird funk. Like, back to where I was when I was always annoyed with my kids and thinking of them as more of a burden than a blessing. Sigh. My hubby had to work all day yesterday - Saturday - so that probably didn't help that I was on my own. However, I did get to put my kids down for a nap at my parents house and run to the bookstore by myself for about an hour and a half. That was a huge blessing!
Anyhoo, the sermon at church today was about honoring our parents. And our pastor mentioned some things from his past about growing up with a mother that was unstable and "adversarial" (his nice way of saying it, but i'm sure it was rough) at times, and I kept thinking, "Oh, Lord, please don't let my kids remember me this way." Because I certainly know that I can be unstable and "adversarial", although probably not to the extent that his mother was, but, boy, no doubt I am completely capable of being worse than I ever dreamed of. And it's like my kids can sense this hesitancy - this fear. The past few days, they've been yelling "I am so mad at you!" and expressing their frustration with me, and on one hand, I understand, so I didn't reprimand them for complaining, but on the other hand, I know that every time they're allowed to yell like that at me, they lose respect for me and gain a little more ground in this battle of the wills. After talking with my husband, I now realize that I can't let them treat me like that - that it's okay to be frustrated, but they need to deal with it in a calm manner and not by stomping their feet and yelling. Most importantly, they need to be respectful. But I feel like such a hypocrite because I yell all the time. I get frustrated all the time, and I throw these little temper tantrums. So how can I require them to not be any different? It's like the whole, "No, you cannot have ice cream every night after dinner!" while I sweep them off to bed so that I can dig into my pint in the freezer. I mean, if I let them give in to all my vices, they'd be totally screwed up by age 14 and incredibly overweight. So I can't let them do it, because I love them and want what's best for them. And I realize that when they are old enough to make their own choices, they may repeat my many sins. But I guess I can just hope and pray that they will see the ill results of them in my life and long to be better.
You know, it's hard being a parent. It's the hardest thing I've ever done. I hear my daughter telling my son "I need space!" or "Ugh...you're making my head hurt by all that talking." and it's so ugly...and we all know where she hears those phrases. Me.
And by the way, while I'm confessing things, here's another one: I don't know what I'm doing. I really don't. I don't know how to do this parenting thing! I don't really know what's best for my kids, or which rules to stick with and which ones are unfair. I don't know who is right when they're fighting, and sometimes, I don't care. I don't want to always have to be the judge or the lawgiver. But here I sit in my lofty chair, trying to balance the legislative, judicial, and executive branches. AAAAAAAAAH! Sometimes, when my kids are looking to me to make a decision, and when I'm on the verge of all hell breaking loose and I need to regain control, I just want to lay down on the floor and curl up in a fetal position. I'm just a little girl - I'm a child - and here I am, the oldest I've ever been in my life, and feeling, at times, less and less competent in my parenting. I mean, I had two preschoolers when I was 25, and there were plenty of foolish mistakes, but, still. That's nothing compared to FOUR needy, clamoring lives that are depending on me to hold it together and shepherd them in a wise and stable way!
I guess this is why the Bible says that "He tenderly leads those that have young." I need to be led. I need the perfect Father to shepherd me and these little ones. I need a strong arm to be there when I just want to give in and not care that my son spit at my daughter or that my daughter has a rotten attitude. I need someone to lean on when my baby and my toddler are crying at the same time and both need to be held. And I NEED TO BE HELD! I NEED TO BE CARRIED! Surely God's heart has a special place for His mommies. Surely there is a special place in his arms for us. My prayer, Lord Jesus, is that You would lead me beside quiet waters...and restore my soul.