When I…Just. Can’t. Even. Anymore.

Let me clarify…I have a toddler.

I could literally end this post now, because if you have a toddler, or have been through this weird twilight zone then you know what I’m talking about. Our daughter is three, and right in the thick of testing every single boundary possible.

From wanting to sit on the potty, to crying when I mention it, to pulling my hair down toward the floor, to kissing me the very next second; I do not know what is happening. How are all these emotions so intense and SO fast and where is the wine?! Not THAT whine! Insert frustrated emoji + fire + wine + all the carbs + lightning bolt emojis.

In all seriousness, I came to a point where I needed help. In addition to all of the normal toddler stuff, our daughter has some special needs and a genetic disorder that exacerbate my stint in toddler’ville. Our day includes four g-tube feedings, administering a cocktail of medications and weighing food down to the gram, which is especially fun when it’s thrown on the floor. Did I mention I’m trying to maintain my real estate hustle? Add that to working on speech and communication constantly as we so desperately want to understand what our daughter is trying to tell us–inevitably there were times of frustration on everyone’s part since we couldn’t effectively communicate with our daughter. I felt enormous pressure to not screw up, not only the stuff that is required medically, but to not screw up this parenting thing.

Being a mom has often made me feel like the biggest failure. I’d look at my big brown eyed girl and ask myself (and sometimes her) how many times do I have to say don’t pull my hair? How many times do my glasses have to be bent off my face before I lose it? When will these tiny hands stop slapping my face? I wanted to be more patient because my girl’s got feelings and a personality that I don’t want to stifle, but at the same time my frustrations were growing into anger and I wasn’t liking the mom I was becoming. I know I’m not the only mom who’s ever felt these things…So I humbled myself, realizing I couldn’t do it all, and asked for help.

I want you to know there’s no shame in asking for help. Whether that be talking with a counselor (check) asking your mom to come over every day (check) or finally biting the bullet to hire regular help (check, please!) I realized that it’s not a bad thing for other people to positively pour into my daughter. It really does take a village to raise these babes and we shouldn’t be scared to ask for more village people. Knowing what you need as a mom to take care of yourself in order to effectively care of your family is crucial. I beat myself up for weeks making this decision, trying to justify it to my husband, who didn’t need any justification or reasons from me because he gets it, he gets me, he knows it’s what’s best for our family at this time.

I never thought our family would be a nanny family. My mom didn’t need a nanny, why would I? My mom also didn’t have to forge a path through the same medical complexities, Dr. visits, surgeries and therapies that we do in order for our daughter to keep pace with her peers. Our daughter needs the extra help and opportunities, and now, I do too.

We were truly blessed to find two people who could alternate helping to care for our daughter during the week. With the addition of our awesome village people, she’s already tried new things, as they give her more freedom in feeding herself, provide more energy to play outside, introduce art projects or help her overcome an obstacle. Not to mention, one of our helpers is fluent in sign language and one is getting her masters in speech language pathology. I can’t provide this sort of expertise to my daughter to help her overcome her speech and communication difficulty. I realized…I just. Cant. Even. Anymore. I put out the SOS and help came coming.

Taking care of myself in this way has allowed me to more effectively and lovingly take care of my daughter. It’s made the hair pulling lessen, it’s afforded me more patience and allowed me to really enjoy my daughter and motherhood more. It’s made our daughter want to give me more kisses and more hugs. It’s actually prompted her to say “Mama” more clearly and more often! It’s allowed my husband and I to have margin in our life, something that’s been lacking for years. In talking with other, more seasoned special needs parents, they’ve let us know that having help is part of the long term plan, it’s what’s required to feel normal some days. I’ve come to grips with being OK with that. I’ve landed on the fact that I can’t be everything or do everything. I need help.

If you need help, Mama, special needs or not, it’s OK to ask and seek it out. Promise.