I’ve cried a lot lately

 I’ve cried a lot lately…..

I’ve always been a crier. An emotional, empathetic being. I have no trouble putting myself in someone else’s shoes or feeling their heartbreak too. I’ve always been that way. I cry at weddings where I don’t even know anyone. I cry just watching the news. 

I have no problem taking a scenario and making it worst case possible in just a few moments. I can twist words to hurt my own feelings when that isn’t what was meant at all. 

I’ve never been good at defeat or loss. I’ve never accepted the fact that I truly can’t do it all. I’m a to do list person. I run a tight schedule most days and appear to do it effortlessly to others.

Except I don’t at all.

The laundry is piled high. 

The furniture needs dusted.

The closets are overflowing. 

The kitchen needs scrubbed.

The windows need washed.

Date night rarely happens.

The kids need help studying. 

The dogs need attention. 

Tomorrow is trash day. 

Lunches need packed.

Dinner needs made. 

And the list just goes and goes…..

I’ve found that so much of adulthood feels like a hamster wheel. I don’t know if I’m doing it wrong — because doesn’t it feel that way so much of the time — or if I’m just stuck in this season of life. The days blur together and I blink and it’s the next month. There isn’t enough time in the day for a break. 

Even when I sit and stop, my mind doesn’t. The mental load of life is exhausting. The emotional toll of carrying everyone’s feelings is exhausting. The voices of everyone else and their demands are overwhelming.

I’ve cried a lot lately... 

How do we give our best to everything and still manage to have enough left for ourselves too?

I’ve had literal chest pain knowing these days will be over one day wrapped together with the same wish that everything could just slow down. 

Lawson said yesterday “when I used to love army men more than basketball” and guess what I did? 

I cried.

Motherhood, in general, feels a lot like letting go of people you love over and over. It feels like the transition from chubby cheeks to toothless grin happens in a snap. We kiss our babies and then they are almost teenagers. We have to go from from being needed for everything to being needed for less and less.

Marriage feels a lot like letting go sometimes too. It’s having the image of who your spouse once was tucked so fondly away while accepting how they are also changing as they navigate their own hamster wheel and loving them fiercely through it all even when the time is not always there to show it. 

I’ve cried a lot lately. For a lot of reasons.

If this is that season for you too, you aren’t alone. ❤️

Big hearts break bigger

 Before you become a mom, you hear other moms explain to you that “you’ll never not worry again” 

“You’ll hurt when your kids hurt”

“You’ll never make a decision without considering them” 

And my goodness how those statements gain life and breath when your kids gain their life and breath. 

We cheer for their successes and cry for their losses. When their little hearts are broken, our big hearts shatter and deafen the sound of reason. 

When they stumble, we hold our breath just hoping they’ll regain that center. 

We watch with bated breath, blending in and nervously moving about, hiding the bundle of butterflies inside. 

Don’t let that baby see that mom is on edge too.

We really do find ourselves wrapped in worry and riddled with uncontrollable anxiety about are we doing enough..

Being enough.

Just enough at all.

Are the decisions we make the right ones? How can I make their lives better? What can I do differently? 

Motherhood truly changes you. It literally takes the person you once were, jumbles it all about, and reshapes everything. Those nuggets of wisdom shared from moms before us run through our minds everytime they come to life before us..... 

And then that baby asks to snuggle. Asks to be held tight. Wants to feel safe. 

And that momma heart.... it just hurts sometimes.

Two years ago

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.

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.

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.

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. 😢