When he tells me his head hurts and my stroking it doesn’t help, I know he’s sick for real and not just for sympathy. His younger brother and sister are just emerging from the fever and croup he’s headed into. It’s Saturday and the US Marine museum outing has been traded for Netflix, mama’s bed, popcorn and orange crush.
The day ticks by much slower than we’d planned.
Slower and perhaps better.
The fall sunshine slants across the sofa and the hamster’s cage that’s made its way into the living room where blanket forts and baby toys compete for attention. Going to the grocery store for medicine, strawberries and other sick-day supplies is the furthest we’ve been today.
I’ve got Simon and Garfunkel in my head,
Slow down
You move to fast
You got to make the morning last
Just kicking down the cobble stones.
Looking for fun and feelin’ groovy.
I spend an hour on the phone with South Africa and soak in their voices and updates and can imagine my dad sitting across from me over a cup of tea. My brother will become a dad for the first time in the new year and next week we have five college students coming over for Thanksgiving.
I talk to them while Zoe plays and the boys watch Pink Panther cartoons. The house is chaos but the people in it at peace and I could not be more grateful.
A girlfriend from college who knew me long before I ever knew I wanted to be a mom asked me on Friday, “What’s the secret to this?”
“How do we parent without feeling like we’re going crazy?”
I answered her from the warm inside of our minivan sitting in the driveway because I knew once I went inside with the groceries it would be game over for any quiet time or conversation.
Today as I look over at the floor strewn with super hero capes, mismatched flip flops and shredded cheddar cheese I think about my answer.
“The only way I know how to parent without losing my mind is by learning to let a lot go,” I’d said.
And with each child I’ve felt my grip loosened further.
Felt the God who is re-making me, re-shaping me, re-birthing me through these children help me let go of more.
The perfectly folded clothes, organized cupboards, planned meals. The compulsion to tidy in the wake of every game concocted by brilliantly imaginative boys. The determination that no one come over if things weren’t just so. The insistence that there is a right way to hang towels.
Parenting with room to breathe, for me, means letting go of the lists I’d thought essential.
Because I’ve discovered that they were strangling me.
While I love order and tidy rooms and neat cupboards as much as the next girl, I will no longer let them be an idol in our house.
I am learning my limits. I have two boys under nine and a three year old baby girl. I have a full time job, a husband with a long commute and yes, then there’s also the assortment of neighbor kids.
Something had to give.
For me it was the dream of the perfect home. I traded it for the reality of a lived in one.
Remembering that choice helps me breathe through the mess on nights when I would give almost anything for maid service. Remembering that helps me wrap my boys up in the blankets from the unmade bed and wrestle them instead of rolling my eyes at the mess.
Remembering that keeps me sane when shoes pile up in doorways, socks never make it to the laundry hamper and someone spills chocolate sauce on the kitchen floor.
Remembering that gives me the freedom to take a deep breath and just let go. Some things will get done and some things will not.
Especially on sick days. On days when boys slow down and chores mount up. Days when the choice is between stroking someone’s head and sorting the dirty clothes.
Days when a six-year-old tells me, “I won’t always be your boy, but you’ll always be my mom.”
So I stroke his forehead and leave wet clothes in the washing machine.
I read Power Rangers to his brother.
I rock that baby girl longer than she needs instead of finishing the meal planning I started this morning.
And part of me might still feel frustrated that not enough got done. That the laundry hamper is still half full and the last load of dishes isn’t put away. That the living room got tidied but the carpet wasn’t vaccuumed. That the plates I bought months ago are still not unpacked. That I forgot to buy gifts for the weekend’s birthday parties and haven’t figured out what to pack for the kid’s lunches tomorrow.
That I wore pajamas for a large portion of today.
But that part? That part is no longer the boss of me.
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One day a few years ago I wrote in my journal, “I hope I can learn to relax, even when the house is messy.” (Give me a second to laugh at my past self here.) Okay so, for better or worse, that time has come. But it’s something I actually had to pray for, and work at, and trust God with. It’s not that my house was always clean back then and now it’s dirty. It’s the same. It’s how I look at it that is different. As you said, I’ve learned to let go. Your post was so relatable. I could actually picture myself…I mean you…sitting in the minivan in the driveway talking on the phone to a friend for just a few more moments of quiet. Thanks for sharing your heart with us and helping us to remember to let go of those things that no longer get to control us.
“I traded it for the reality of a lived in one…”
Lisa, like you, I have three children and I’ve been on-call in this parenting role for nine years now. I still periodically must remind myself that my house SHOULD look like three kids live in it. (There’s normally some deep breathing involved, too.) Giving ourselves this permission is freeing. You’re right: we don’t need to let our house and its demands rule those who live in it.
Our oldest is a senior in college 2,000 miles away; I would give anything to have her noise and silliness in the house for just one more day. Our youngest is still at home with crazy messy bed and bath rooms. I let it go because I know that when she ileaves for college no one will care how messy anything was. The children will remember the love and the fun and the calm – not how clean the house was.
Thanks for your heart-felt post!
Love this. I’ve been in full on to-do list mode this week preparing for visitors and holidays and such when yesterday afternoon my little guy woke up with a fever. Stomach flu! The world definitely slowed to a halt. Still not feeling good today and the only productive thing I’ve done is snuggle. And you know what.. The todo list can wait. :)
Hi Lisa,
I have 3 girls, 20, 17 and 14. When they were all in grade school I jokingly said that I will clean the house when the youngest leaves for University, I may have a messy house, but my kids know love, as do all their young friends, some who lived with us for periods of time due to rough times at their own home. I used to apologize, but there is nothing to apologize for, when cleaning comes before hugging, you need to re-evaluate your parenting priorities. You are doing a great job, and we are all proud!!
I’ve got a sickie at home today too. Thanks for sweet reminders of the important job we have to just love them.
Here’s a big YOU GO, GIRL from an older mom on the other side of motherhood…3 kids in their early 20’s and one on their last year of high school. You will never regret letting go of the lists…to hold on to what is really important. I love reading your insights on motherhood. I’m still a mom, but your posts take me back to those early days. :)
This is so timely!! I’ve always been the type to try to let a lot go…but for some reason lately I’ve become consumed with getting things cleaned, organized, etc. To the point where it’s not healthy. I’m snapping at my family, obsessing about this stuff. Thanks for the encouragement to focus on what actually matters!
Love this, Lisa-Jo. So true! I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I’d give anything for a sick day every now and then. To have an excuse to stay in my pajamas instead of putting on a dress in the morning would be amazing to me right now. Of course, if I were to get a sick day now it would be because I am the one who is sick, so maybe I’d better rethink that one. :)