"I Can Do It Myself!"

You're probably thinking one of my toddlers said the above title. Well - yes, they say it a lot. However - that is not who is the most guilty of saying that phrase. I am. The Russian.

**I'm actually shocked The Celt didn't decide to call me Blondie or Ruskie, two of his favorite pet names he has for me. I'll take The Russian and run with it.**

See - I say that more than the toddlers. "I can do it myself! I got this! I can handle every single thing that comes at me on my own! I don't need help! Help is weakness!!"

But all of that is wrong, wrong, wrong.

I do need help. Lots and lots of it. Not from The Celt. I need help from God. I need prayers from the Saints and Our Blessed Mother, Mary. I need to pause and pray that they will help me through my frustrations...through my anger...through my selfishness.

How many times I have thought, "Good grief, I got this, just leave me ALONE for a minute."

Whoa. Hold that scary train on back, momma. With that sentence I just illustrated that I have nothing.

Evie Rose is a very "high needs" child. She wants to be held, cuddled, and snuggled 24/7. Even when I have to use the restroom - she wants to come with me. She wails at the gate while I rush to switch laundry about. She loses her mind if I walk out of her sight for even a moment. I am not and have never been that way. I am more independent & more of a loner by nature. Jamie is the same way. If no one wants to play with him, who cares?! He's totally cool off playing on his own. He was and is my "easy" child. I don't like labels. Evie's easy in her own ways as well. She is just very demanding. But you see - I need her too...

She's teaching me to let go of things that don't really matter (the stuff.) She's teaching me to let go of  my sinful pride. She's teaching me to pray more when I am frustrated, angry, or want those selfish minutes to myself. There will come a time when she won't need me any more. You can bet I will miss her snuggles. For now - I need to let the rest go. I need to rock, snuggle, and spend time with my little girl. She's teaching me patience and compassion.

Who knew such lofty lessons could be learned from someone so little...

Song For a Fifth Child, by Ruth Hamilton. 1958

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth

Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,

Hang out the washing and butter the bread,

Sew on a button and make up a bed.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?

She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I've grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue

(lullaby, rock-a-bye, Lullaby loo).

Dishes are waiting and bills are past due

(pat-a-cake, darling, and peek-peek-a-boo).

The shopping is not done and there's nothing for stew

And out in the yard there is a hullabaloo.

But I'm playing "Kanga" and this is my "Roo."

Look! Aren't her eyes the most wonderful hue?

(lullaby, rock-a-bye, lullaby loo).

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,

for children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.

So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.

I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.