There was a time and a church where women didn’t tell their hard stories.
I was a sleep deprived brand new mom who wished someone else would whisper in her ear that they missed going to the movies as much as I did. If she was alive, I would have asked my mom if that was why she smelled of popcorn those days when she was late to pick us up from school. I’d ask her right out if she snuck away into the dark to lose herself in the stories of someone else rather than the piles of laundry waiting at home.
But instead I assumed it was easy, this mothering business, and I simply a slow study. So I fumed quietly and efficiently and still showed up when and where was expected, baby politely in tow.
I have grown up quite a bit since then.
Two more babies and I’ve thrown books and expectations out the window. It feels good to breathe. Christie tells me I am not being graded. She shares her hard stories and I believe her and learn that I am not alone.
So I roll down the windows of my life and I yell out to the other moms passing by, “You’re not crazy for feeling so all-out tired. You’re normal.”
And I laugh right hard in my little kitchen where the fake bricks are peeling off and I turn up the country tunes some days and dance with my boys between the dishwasher and the kitchen table. No one tells me that Jackson is too old to be sneaking down the passage way and into our bed at midnight. No one tells me because I’m not listening anymore.
I birthed these boys and this tiny girl and it cost me in cuts and pounds and a jean size I wonder if I’ll ever get back.
But it made me their mother and I’ve finally learned that mama knows best.
So, if we choose to public school, if we let ’em dance in the rain wearing nothing but their skivvies, if we eat pizza every Friday night while watching Three Ninjas Kick Back, or all go out for ice cream at inappropriate times, if we don’t iron their clothes or let them play video games, if we insist they always say, “yes, ma’am”, and teach them South Africanisms we know will confuse Americans – I’m no longer afraid of the hard stories.
Because they’re what made me a mother. Under the cute bows Zoe might wear and the light-em-up shoes sported by Jackson and Micah – it’s been in the hard, flailing moments when I was learning how to mother.
Those moments – I don’t think they’re the exception. I think they’re the definition of motherhood.
I promise to share mine with you.
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Thank you for this!
God’s timing of these things for me is so perfect!
Blessings on the journey~
I’ve been wondering a lot lately about how much we seem to try to fit into a normal that doesn’t exist and try to force (or pretend) our own children there too. If everyone is medicated, doesn’t that mean the non-medicated standard is the real normal? (This is clearly not a condemnation of seeking help, just a wondering if we’re all striving in every way for some kind of imaginary perfection.) How much of my own time do I spend grading myself against a nonexistent curve? Of people who don’t know more than me about my own life? Thanks.
Amanda
PS I always read and never comment, so hi :)
Hi right back atcha :) And I think you’re absolutely right, the curve we all keep competing against? It doesn’t exist.
Mmmmhmm. Those molds are good for nothin’ but making us feel inadequate. And yet, I still feel myself trying to squish into them now and then. Keep telling your stories – they remind me that I am the only one who knows how to be mom to mine.
Those stories are all I have.
Wait. That sounds really overly dramatic. Some days it feels that way, anyway.
Wonderfully said….
God has blessed us with the perfect unique children that He did, probably because He trusts that we will meet their specific needs…(whatever they may be)
Public School. Home School. Piercings. TV’s…..on and on and on…
Our Creator and His word should be the only standard we are looking up to and the only book we should be pouring ourselves into!
Much Love!
It’s like you overheard my discussion last night between me and my husband. I REALLY need to learn this!
Amen, my friend! I’m right there with you.
I love that you make me feel normal :)
Hmmm….going to the movies to escape doing laundry? Yes, please! (Why haven’t I thought of that before?)
Thank you! When I read your stories I feel like I have just had a great talk with a wonderful friend. Sharing our hard stories is such a gift to others who may be going through the same. Thank you.
Oh I *love* that you feel that way! It’s how I feel too when I share them :)
Oh how I wish I would have had the courage to not listen to what some ladies would say…especially the things said behind my back. There was a reason for it…if it were true, then perhaps those things could have been said to my face. Thanks for being brave and encouraging us all to have turn a deaf ear to the noise that we can hear what He whispers to our hearts.
This is oh-so-good to hear! I’m often left wondering what on earth I did of any value…and then I remember that, as a friend told me recently, I sustained life. Which can be one of the most daunting tasks some days. :)
Girl, sustained, raised, birthed a human being! If that isn’t a super power I don’t know what is!
Beautiful and much words! Thank you for sharing the truth with us. What a blessing. :)
Lovely post, something we all need to remind ourselves so often
I love this. I had to learn to quit listening too and trust myself. Such a better way.
it’s women like you and posts like this that help me understand motherhood is nothing to be feared. thank you. {really}
No never feared. Embraced, shaped, danced, celebrated – yes, a gift.
You’re always such a breath of fresh air when you write about motherhood. And, I’ll think of posts like this one when my 4-year old and 3-year old both manage to make their way to our bed sometime around 3 AM again tonight. Thanks for being real.
Sadly, I think I was measuring myself against a curve of my own devising, inspired by OPBs (other peoples’ blogs). While I *knew* OPB’s were just curated snippets of their lives, I couldn’t help but compare and fail miserably.
It started b/c I was so intimidated by motherhood that I gravitated towards OPBs that seemed to have figured it all out. More power to homeschooling moms of seven kids who maintain a design business and grow their own food and zip into Manhatten on a regular basis to party with Bono (joking, mostly)–but those models of sucessful motherhood do not reflect my life at all.
Mine either. And likely not even their own. We all want to have it all together and if that’s not possible, sometimes the appearance is a comforting second best. But it’s not true and never a comfort to anyone else. Real is like a big hug and a slice of chocolate cake. I’ll take real every day.
Thank you….. I am that sleep deprived new mama who desperately misses going to the movies, and reading ‘fluff’ books just for the fun of it. I’ve been making new motherhood way too hard, and trying to be way too perfect. So, now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to put up my feet for a few minutes, while my baby sleeps, and read…. :)
Oh good!! Being able to read until the wee hours and then nap all Saturday afternoon was one of the things I grieved giving up the most as a new mom. But even now, there are some nights I still read into the early hours and it’s always worth it :)
Thank you.
I’m going to share mine, too.
This is like a breath of fresh air! Also something I have learned to “grow” into as a mom. And one reason I read very few “mom” blogs anymore. I will, however, be adding your’s to my list so I can read some real stories! Hugs and blessings to you!
Real and usually wrinkled, since ironing is so two kids ago in this household :)
You are so normal! And I love you for it! Well, the rest of us are normal too, really, if we’ll just admit it. Thank you for encouraging all of us to take off our masks. I LOVE reading your stories! “Ice cream at innappropriate times…” love that one especially. It’s been a long-standing plan of mine to put all of my kids to bed, including jammies and teeth brushed, and then wake them all up, put them in the car, and go get ice cream!
Oh I love that idea – adding it to my memory bank for when the baby’s older :)
simply beautiful, lisa jo. what freedom there is in learning that mom knows best. in learning that God made each mommy unique, just as He made each kid, dad and family unique…he made us to love and enjoy our kids, and to love them the best way WE know how…not the best way others love their kids.
thank you for this beautiful reminder—you’re SO good at bringing these reminders right when i need them.
and i have to ask—is there ever an inappropiate time to have ice cream??????
Heh – indeed!!
The thing I so deeply appreciate about you, and this space, is that you are so refreshingly real and honest and not perfect. You’re someone I would want to be friends with. You’re someone I would invite over and leave dishes in my sink because I know you wouldn’t care. :-) I truly don’t have words to express how thankful I am for your blog and your encouragement and you. Thanks.
Aw Jen, about the highest compliment you could pay me would be to leave your dishes in the sink- then our houses could be best friends too :)
It was in those moments that I was learning to be a mother too! My house is a beautiful home. A very lived in home most days with piles of laundry and dishes and lots of sounds bouncing off the walls. Today that includes three pans of cinnamon rolls that need baking but an oven with a burnt-out element. It is in these moments that I find time to read your posts and remember that this is right where God wants me. That my house is perfect in its’ very live in state because this is a limited time offer that has me knee deep in kiddo chaos and overflowing with their noisy love. All too soon they will all be in school, involved in activities and in the blink of an eye, gone. So, for now my version of ironing is 20 mintiest in the dryer with a damp towel, making sure that hair gets brushed means there is a brush in the car, and that I will happily spend the night on the couch buried in short people as we spend another night sleeping together – not enough room in the bed for us and dad, so we let him have some space.
Most importantly I come here to be reminded that I’m not the only mom living life ‘as isn’t
Gotta love my smart phone…lived in home, minutes in the dryer, mintiest, really?
Okay – living life ‘as is’ because some days that’s all I have. :0)
Thank you!
LuvNHugz – SupportNPrayerz
DV-NMV
AMEN and AMEN!!!