During my youth, planning my future was a full-time job. I dreamed of every detail. I knew I wanted to be a mother. God’s plan was never in doubt for me. I created timelines in my head for my perfectly normal life. The straight path we would follow. Instead, we are on a twisty, dark mountain road with zero visibility. A day without the need to be strong is what I long for. There is light even in the darkness. My task is to find it and shape my mindset around it.

Not Your Average Motherhood

Motherhood–the toughest job you will ever love. A statement I think all moms can agree on at some level. Caring for other living beings is a lot of responsibility. Basic human needs alone are tough. Add in the caring, nurturing portion of the gig, and the stakes rise even higher. In all my plans, I pictured scenarios that matched my life experience. Not one of us was perfect, but we were all “typical” kids. We had good health, good grades, and active social lives full of school activities. My reality does not fall into the typical realm.

In my house, we have some challenges. I have a teen who likes to describe herself as neuro spicy. The combination of Bi-Polar 2 and ADHD culminates in periods of anxiety, depression, OCD, hyperfocus full of immense creativity, and distraction at the level of a television changing channels every two seconds. It’s a lot. The same teen has a list of physical ailments that continue to grow. My tween suffers from debilitating migraines and increasing levels of anxiety. These lovely, beautiful humans need a ton of daily support. Momma is the anchor who provides it.

Constantly Switching Gears

The one constant in our life is that nothing is ever constant. Every time I think we have it figured out; something diverts us on a new course. The medicine is working. Just kidding. Try these terrible side effects instead. We are enthusiastic about this brand-new activity. Our body wants to fight against us, causing chronic pain where fun should live. We zig and zag with every new event. I am the queen of logistics, advocacy, and problem-solving the obscure.

On days when all they want to do is cry because “Why is everything hard all the time?” I build them up. My reply is, “I don’t know, my sweet child, but we will figure it out together.” Our mantra repeated endlessly as I stare into the eyes of defeat. When there is no other option left, that’s when you discover your strength. Being strong is exhausting. But I can only imagine how they feel, so I will be strong for and with them.

Feeling Alone in the Wilderness

As we travel through the wilderness, I feel alone. The looks, comments, and lack of empathy we encounter is astounding. Part of me wants to reply–”I am so happy for you that our reality is not something you can fathom.” Genuinely, I am. It is hard to be strong. It is difficult to think outside the box 24/7. Advocating and explaining on repeat is exhausting. This path is not for everyone. I am unaware of how I pull it off most days, so I would not wish it on someone else.

What causes me heartache is that my children take that lack of empathy and internalize it. Ms. X thinks I am lazy and don’t care. Mr. Y said I am making up stories to get out of work. I cannot control the opinions and actions of others. Neither can my children. We talk about mindset. Looking at a situation and tackling the portion you have control over. I want my children to understand themselves outside of other people’s opinions. It takes effort, but I know in the long run they will be stronger.

Finding Peace in What We Have

I adore my life, even though I crave a day that is simple and uneventful. My children make me laugh. Their creativity and talent amaze me. It’s inspiring how they keep trying despite failures. They love and support each other. I watched my teen take my tween out of the auditorium to the quiet hallway at a school function because she could tell the noise made her uncomfortable. My little one will go to the basement to get Gatorade for his sister who feels dizzy and can’t take the stairs. At performances, they clap for each other and at home, they show off.

We have more meltdowns than the average family, but we muddle our way through until the storm ends. The search for understanding amidst the desire for silence can be draining. We’re not infallible. No one is perfect. We all have our moments. But what will they accomplish as they age if they can handle all this now? I can’t wait to watch and see it unfold.

You are not Alone

To all my friends who read this and nod in agreement, I see you, and you are doing an outstanding job. Keep it up. Be the advocator, the rock, and the anchor. Someday, your kids will thank you. To all my friends for which this is unfamiliar, open your heart and mind to the possibility that the situations you witness daily are more complicated than they appear. Kindness and empathy can make the difference between helping and hurting a case. You don’t have to walk a mile in their shoes. Please take a second to acknowledge they’re not your shoes, and you don’t know how they feel.

I will keep walking, waiting for my one normal, unextraordinary day. Until then, I will embrace the controlled chaos. Normal is probably overrated anyway.