It's been a day.
A long day at work, a long evening home, and too many coals in the fire of my life. The to do list is long and the nerves are short and I feel I'm failing at this motherhood gig every single day.
You see, I'm finally in the shower (8:30) and a sweet boy rounds the corner asking for clothes. He's currently into only underwear. I snap and mutter under my breath, as I normally do - "get them yourself. I can't do it while I'm in the shower!"
Away he goes and slowly returns holding up a shirt and asking if it's okay. I nod.
Away he goes again and I shower in peace, questioning why I have so many coals in the fire and wondering how I'm measuring up on the motherhood scale - not well I conclude. I finish up my shower and as I'm getting out --
"Mommy, just dry off and then come help me, okay? You need to help me, mommy."
Tears. My tears. That faithful little dude wasn't mad at me for snapping, but instead he sat patiently waiting on my bed because mommy puts his clothes on just right. That sweet little smile waited for me anyway, knowing I'd kiss his head before he toddled on downstairs for a bedtime snack.
"I love you, mommy"
Wordy, sure, but my point is this: we may feel we're failing at motherhood every day, but the truth is that we aren't. Our kids eyes see us differently and they don't compare us to unrealistic standards. They love us regardless. Let's stop focusing on failing and focus on fulfilling.
My new goal. I owe it to my kids. They sure put up with a lot from me.
Saturday, May 30, 2020
Sunday, May 24, 2020
Measurements
How do you measure a mother?
Is it in the quiet moments where everyone is safe or the crazy moments when the laughter is too loud, deafening?
Is it measured by contentment of a happy child, scribbling on a cardboard box, imagination running wild ~ dreams being drawn?
Do we measure mom by how her children grow up to be successful? Or because they grow up to be kind?
Should we shelter our children from the outside world or sit in the shadows, clapping, as their brains make sense of information ~ developing own opinions and identities?
Is a mother measured by the amount of veggies her kid consumes or by the chicken nuggets tossed in the back seat because it’s just too busy to slow down......
Do we measure mom by her glory, shiny moments or by her lows ~ the moments she sneaks away for solitude with a glass of wine because the day was just too much?
Do we give her a check for every family game night? Erase one when she’d rather have a moment alone instead?
Because motherhood is so much about losing and gaining and losing and gaining.......
You lose yourself so easily as your pour yourself into the tiny creatures who depend on you, look up to you, and never measure you the way you measure yourself.
You see, you can’t measure a mother at all. We are all worthy.
Is it in the quiet moments where everyone is safe or the crazy moments when the laughter is too loud, deafening?
Is it measured by contentment of a happy child, scribbling on a cardboard box, imagination running wild ~ dreams being drawn?
Do we measure mom by how her children grow up to be successful? Or because they grow up to be kind?
Should we shelter our children from the outside world or sit in the shadows, clapping, as their brains make sense of information ~ developing own opinions and identities?
Is a mother measured by the amount of veggies her kid consumes or by the chicken nuggets tossed in the back seat because it’s just too busy to slow down......
Do we measure mom by her glory, shiny moments or by her lows ~ the moments she sneaks away for solitude with a glass of wine because the day was just too much?
Do we give her a check for every family game night? Erase one when she’d rather have a moment alone instead?
Because motherhood is so much about losing and gaining and losing and gaining.......
You lose yourself so easily as your pour yourself into the tiny creatures who depend on you, look up to you, and never measure you the way you measure yourself.
You see, you can’t measure a mother at all. We are all worthy.
Monday, February 24, 2020
Wisdom
I am two beautiful children into this thing called life.
I’ve birthed and bathed and wondered and prayed - for patience, for health, for more sleep —
And for time to Just. Slow. Down.
I’ve cherished the moments- or have I truly cherished them enough?
It’s a shame that our infinite wisdom and patience comes as we get older and that we don’t have that same insight or goals in our 20s.
If I could go back and tell 26 year old first time mom me a thing or two, I’d remind that naive girl eager for a blossoming career that there are far more important things than working to the top. The years do just fly on by even when the days seem to drag and those moments spent away won’t ever come back.Those nighttime feedings are fleeting and those sweet baby snuggles end. That young girl rocking into the wee hours of the morning will one day long for baby milk breath and to wish she could start over to relive first little words and wobbly little steps.
If I could tell 29 year old me, welcoming my second child into this world, another tidbit of infinite wisdom that comes with age, I’d remind her to watch the way her daughter comforts her inconsolable son and to pay a little more attention to how her husband rocks her children while they both still fit on his lap. I’d tell her close her eyes and listen to her husband sing... “goodnight, Irene” while baby breathing becomes pattered, deep, content. I’d tell her to write more in that baby book because the 2nd kid just doesn’t get as many doodles and memories as that first. I’d remind that girl, once again, that babies really don’t keep and that the toys littering the playroom will one day break her heart as they’re packed away, never to be played with again.
It’s amazing how much perspective you gain while raising babies; how much motherhood changes and shapes you. These little people I’m supposed to be raising are changing and impacting me much more than I’m molding them and isn’t that the beauty of being a mom?
Is it okay to wish for the past? My people are growing and as much as I adore and love who they’re becoming, it surely shatters my heart.
35 year old me misses these babies.
I’ve birthed and bathed and wondered and prayed - for patience, for health, for more sleep —
And for time to Just. Slow. Down.
I’ve cherished the moments- or have I truly cherished them enough?
It’s a shame that our infinite wisdom and patience comes as we get older and that we don’t have that same insight or goals in our 20s.
If I could go back and tell 26 year old first time mom me a thing or two, I’d remind that naive girl eager for a blossoming career that there are far more important things than working to the top. The years do just fly on by even when the days seem to drag and those moments spent away won’t ever come back.Those nighttime feedings are fleeting and those sweet baby snuggles end. That young girl rocking into the wee hours of the morning will one day long for baby milk breath and to wish she could start over to relive first little words and wobbly little steps.
If I could tell 29 year old me, welcoming my second child into this world, another tidbit of infinite wisdom that comes with age, I’d remind her to watch the way her daughter comforts her inconsolable son and to pay a little more attention to how her husband rocks her children while they both still fit on his lap. I’d tell her close her eyes and listen to her husband sing... “goodnight, Irene” while baby breathing becomes pattered, deep, content. I’d tell her to write more in that baby book because the 2nd kid just doesn’t get as many doodles and memories as that first. I’d remind that girl, once again, that babies really don’t keep and that the toys littering the playroom will one day break her heart as they’re packed away, never to be played with again.
It’s amazing how much perspective you gain while raising babies; how much motherhood changes and shapes you. These little people I’m supposed to be raising are changing and impacting me much more than I’m molding them and isn’t that the beauty of being a mom?
Is it okay to wish for the past? My people are growing and as much as I adore and love who they’re becoming, it surely shatters my heart.
35 year old me misses these babies.
Wednesday, February 19, 2020
Wonky Donkey
There’s nothing like a silly book and bedtime prayers to begin a reflection and rambling... I’m good at that.
Noting like tucking in a sweet boy as he drifts to dream of basketball games, army tanks, and whatever other obsession he has in this season of his life.
Have you ever pulled so hard at pajamas because surely his head has grown since last week.... they just don’t go on.
Or shoved a tiny little foot into an even tinier shoe to simply discover it also doesn’t fit anymore. How’d it happen so fast?
They grow, don’t they? Changing daily and constantly and often before we even realize it.
Do I take it in enough? Do I truly cherish these moments enough?
So precious is that sweet little voice, “snuggle puppy, come on.”
I’m sure these days will end and I’ll never be called snuggle puppy anymore. And I can almost guarantee a tear will sneak right out of the corner of my eye when I see that board book and I look back on the greatest moments of my life - the moments I’m currently living.
Motherhood is so weird and rewarding and so much questioning. We question everything. We measure everything.
And I’d be willing to bet we hold ourselves to unattainable standards and never let ourselves measure up.
And I step back. I breathe. I count to ten. It’s too much sometimes.
But tonight, in this room, the little giggles as we read about a cranky, stinky, wonky donkey- I just know I’m doing alright.
This snuggle puppy is living.
When a time passes, my friends, its gone. The time is now.
All the mommy’s boys in the world grow up. 😢
Noting like tucking in a sweet boy as he drifts to dream of basketball games, army tanks, and whatever other obsession he has in this season of his life.
Have you ever pulled so hard at pajamas because surely his head has grown since last week.... they just don’t go on.
Or shoved a tiny little foot into an even tinier shoe to simply discover it also doesn’t fit anymore. How’d it happen so fast?
They grow, don’t they? Changing daily and constantly and often before we even realize it.
Do I take it in enough? Do I truly cherish these moments enough?
So precious is that sweet little voice, “snuggle puppy, come on.”
I’m sure these days will end and I’ll never be called snuggle puppy anymore. And I can almost guarantee a tear will sneak right out of the corner of my eye when I see that board book and I look back on the greatest moments of my life - the moments I’m currently living.
Motherhood is so weird and rewarding and so much questioning. We question everything. We measure everything.
And I’d be willing to bet we hold ourselves to unattainable standards and never let ourselves measure up.
And I step back. I breathe. I count to ten. It’s too much sometimes.
But tonight, in this room, the little giggles as we read about a cranky, stinky, wonky donkey- I just know I’m doing alright.
This snuggle puppy is living.
When a time passes, my friends, its gone. The time is now.
All the mommy’s boys in the world grow up. 😢