From Strength to Strength

I am a single mother of four.

Now, I would venture that most, if not all of you who are reading this know this fact already.  But there are people that I meet outside of my life with my kids who don't.  At least not right away.  In many cases, they assume initially that I am younger than I actually am.  They figure that I am a typical university student, living on my own, working towards my degree.  Inevitably, at some point, I mention that I have a child of some gender.  This happened today.  "Oh?  You have a daughter?"  "Yep.  Two actually."  "Oh!"  "And two sons."  "Oh...wow...I never would have guessed."  No, most people wouldn't.  I often hear, "You don't look like you have four kids."  To which I usually respond, "Thank you," all the time wondering what someone with four kids should look like.  Because I have four, and this is what I look like.

Then there's the single issue.  Sometimes people just assume that I'm married (who would be crazy enough to have four kids on her own?).  "What does your husband do?"  "Um, well, I don't have one."  "Oh...sorry..."  Some people know that I'm single beforehand, which leads to more surprise on the four kids thing. 

Once in awhile, I like to spring it on people all at once.  Just for the shock value.  Like when I met with my practicum supervisor with the other students teachers.  We were to introduce ourselves and say one thing about ourselves.  "I am a single mother of four."  Jaws trying not to drop.  I enjoy watching people while they try to process it.  Amusing.

Probably the most common phrase I hear is, "I don't know how you do it."  You know what?  Neither do I.  All I know is that I certainly don't do it as well as I would like to.  I fail miserably at being a mother more than I fail at anything else.  Take this morning for example.  First day of school.  I get Caleb and Dani on the bus on time.  Charisma needs to leave half an hour later and either bike or walk.  I'm trying to get myself out the door, and she is taking forever to get ready.  "I don't have a lunch kit.  I don't have breakfast.  I can't find a bike lock.  I don't want to walk.  Can't Grandma drive me?"  And do you think I can find a bike lock?  At least one that has a key?  No, of course not.  I tear apart the shed.  I tear apart my room.  I yell.  I carry on.  She's in frustrated, angry, hurt tears.  I really don't give a rip because now I'm late for school too.  And I'm sick.  And exhausted.  And stressed.  I finally give my mom the van key and say that she can drive her today, and walk out the door, barely saying goodbye to Justin, who is standing there crying because I'm leaving again and I've been throwing a bit of a tantrum for the past 10-15 minutes.  Fail.

Thank God not all days are like today.  We have some great moments.  I love the little surprises kids give you - both the intentional ones, and the other ones.  The times when you get to see that yes, they did learn that lesson, beautifully, and you know what?  They may grow up to be an amazing person in spite of my failure.

How do I do it?  Like the psalmist wrote in Psalm 84 - I go from strength to strength.  More often than not, it's not my strength.  The strength of my family.  Of my friends.  Of my faith.  Of my God. 

Today, I don't feel strong.  Today, I am incredibly weak.  But there is a Strength that holds me, that will carry me into tomorrow.  That will bring us all through yet another day.