No Credit For Trying

I wonder sometimes what I'm doing.

I agreed to help raise 4 boys that are not mine. It was given to me, I did not ask for the job. I jumped in gung-ho thinking that I was really going to help these poor, poor children who so desperately needed me. I immediately set some goals, rolled up my sleeves and went to work. Thanksgiving Dinner night after night and 3 or 4 loads of laundry a day were the norms of life.

In order to fit everyone in the house, we needed to find a new home. I had big dreams. Even though the house that we bought only had two bedrooms, it had a huge garage that had plenty of space for three more bedrooms and a bathroom. I was determined to provide for the children. I had a business caring for medically fragile children in my home. That quickly became insufficient for their feeding and clothing needs and the overwhelming number of other needs that all children have. My husband was putting in all the hours that he could so it was left up to me. I had to take a second job and the only thing available was on the night shift. The stress really took a toll on me but I was determined to help make a good home for everyone.

The reconstruction of the home took much more than expected, child support dwindled to all but nothing, and we were getting more and more behind on our bills. The mortgage was nearly 90 days past due, and the utilities took their turns each month being disconnected. We ate an awful lot of rice from the food storage. So much that I don't make it much anymore. New clothes for myself were a distant dream, for each fall brought with it the mandatory purchases of new school clothes and supplies costing hundreds of dollars. Shoes needed replacing every two to three months. Clothes were constantly needing replacements. Credit cards were maxed out and the stress escalated.

So much of my life was put on hold for the collective purpose of raising the children. Personal goals were put on the back burner and survival was the word of the day. I was not only responsible for MY survival, but for eight children, some of which were too small to help care for themselves. Tension was in the air and tempers ran short. As much as I tried to teach the children something like 'love one another' or 'many hands make the work load light', it seems that they did everything in their power to oppose me.

Now, things are a little different. There are only two of them left at the house. They still resent me trying to teach them anything but financially, we are much better off. I am now trying to do little things for myself. I get my nails done now, get my hair done once in a while, and occasionally purchase a new shirt or pair of jeans. I've never had the luxury of buying anything for myself without having tremendous guilt for doing so.

So what is the issue? My own children tell me all the time that they understand that I did the best I could under the circumstances, yet these boys express nothing but resentment and sometimes downright hatred toward me. I understand that I am not their mother, and I never want to replace her, but I was the one who sacrificed years of my life for them. I was the one who made sure that they ate when they were hungry. I made sure that they had all the things they needed in school. I gave up everything for them.

For what?