I have been writing and rewriting this post in my head for quite some time. Trouble is, it’s either too positive or too negative or too mushy or too completely full of half truths. Because, the reality of motherhood, the nitty gritty truth of motherhood is tricky. It’s hard to describe and incredibly difficult for me to arrange these complicated thoughts in my little head.
I remember when Bitzy was a baby and I would hear people talk about how hard motherhood was and I would roll my head-in-the-clouds eyes and sigh. “What is so hard about it?” I’d think. “It’s the best, most amazing adventure ever in the history of the whole wide world!” I would see well meaning mommies tweet about hiding in the bathroom for just a minute of peace and I would sigh and judge them and feel sorry for their bad attitude.
And still, 3 years and 3 kids later I still say a resounding YES that being a mommy is the most amazing, incredible, exhilarating adventure that I could ever dream of being a part of. It is 100% my dream come true and I cannot imagine not being a stay at home mommy. Just the thought of not being with them throughout the day, everyday, puts me in a panic. But, (of course there is a “but”), it’s also hard.
This has been a plaguing heartache of mine over the past year or so. I really wanted to be THE ONE Mommy who would never utter those words. In my heart of hearts I wanted to be the Mommy who had obedient children who never fight, never had an attitude problem, always napped, never cried and who are practically perfect in every way. I wanted to be an example for tired mommies everywhere, that a positive attitude and kind spirit holds the key to a happy mommy, fulfilled husband and mostly perfect babies.
But friends I’m here to tell you, I’m not her. I’m not sure if “she” exists, but I can tell you right now, it ain’t me.
And again, it’s hard to write and even harder to process. If being a mommy and wife is my dream job and I admit it’s hard, does that mean that I’m not cut out for it? Does that mean that I am failing?
We all begin motherhood all hopeful with wide eyes and full hearts and think that we can’t lose. This is why the first time I felt the crazy panic sweep over me because Bitzy wouldn’t stop crying…like, would not stop crying people, I thought I was flawed somehow. That my dream was a hoax that I would never be the mommy that I dreamed I would be. That we were all doomed.
I know it sounds dramatic, because it is dramatic! And in the moment it’s even more dramatic.
I’ve cried, prayed, talked to friends, poured my heart out to my beloved Zach and they all say the same thing, “What you’re doing is hard, very hard. What you feel is normal and I have felt that way too.”
Other people feel enormously guilty for not enjoying every single minute of every single day, even with the crying, whining, disobedience and minute-by-minute training? Other people feel overwhelmed with playing, crafting and being a spiritual and relational teacher throughout the day but still having a clean house and cooking three meals every day? Other people wake up every morning feeling energetic and hopeful and by naptime have no energy and no patience to match?
I can’t tell you what a relief that is.
Even still, I desire in my heart of hearts to be different…to be the exception. To be full of grace and truth and LOVE for my babies. To have patience and a wealth of hope that every minute will be special and they will see Christ in me.
For me, just admitting that it’s hard has helped. To know that I’m not alone that God is my help and that you ladies and gents are fighting the good fight with me gives me great comfort. But I don’t want to park in the hardness. I want to admit it and get on with it.
I want to smile when a well meaning person says, “It goes so fast, enjoy every minute.” Of course I will vow under my breath to never, ever say those words to a young mother when my babies are older. Because it does go fast, that’s why admitting it’s hard seems so much like failure.
But it’s not failure. The hardness just reminds me that I need a Savior all the more.
I’m learning that resting in the hope of Christ when I feel tired and guilty and weary isn’t hard at all.
I need you, oh I need you. Every hour I need you sweet Jesus.