I know this is a blog
about the kids. My kids. But, there is something about moms that I
would like to touch on. Lately I’ve heard so many of my mom friends who are,
like me, trying to keep up with society and a supermom agenda.
We aren’t superheroes, we
aren’t super models, we aren’t millionaires; we are moms.
I'm talking about simply
being a mom.
I'm talking about getting up in the morning,
slapping your face with water, looking in the mirror, sighing, brushing your
teeth (maybe), and picking up that toddler and wandering into the kitchen to
start your day. Pouring cereal in bowls, rinsing dishes, kisses good morning,
waiting for your coffee to brew.
There isn't much glamour.
There is just you. You, giving all of yourself, minute by minute, until
those minutes add up to hours, until those hours add up to create a day, which
adds up to create a week, which adds up to create a month, which adds up to
create years, which add up to create a life. A beautiful, wonderful life filled
with ordinary mom moments.
Somehow in this mixed up media world of things
to do and places to go and dreams to follow, the beauty of simply being a
mother is completely lost.
Being a mom is enough.
It's enough, I say.
Sometimes we want to look to those big things
and use them as a grade for success. We look at the cool science fair projects
where our child got the blue ribbon. But, honestly, we miss the hours of
interacting and holding glue sticks and looking things up and laughing side by
side. We want the trips to Disney or American Girl Doll, yet we discount the
time simply spent in the backyard. The bar of success, joy, and happiness gets
pushed so high by culture that the little things, the enough mom moments, are
somehow lost.
Do you know what matters?
This.
It’s the little things.
Like stopping my crazy busy mom and work agenda
to look at the beautiful crayon rendering of myself in the sun, grass and
flowers at my feet, clouds and birds in the sky and appreciating the wonderful
talents of a determined toddler. It's
about me taking thirty minutes to play hide and seek, Barbies, cowboys, Candy
Land, football, or singing and dancing around the house like crazy people,
without distractions. Email can wait thirty minutes. They cannot. It's in not
worrying so much about the laundry and dishes, instead just letting that go and
being thankful for beautiful children to do laundry for. Just simply being
there; cooking together, laughing together, giving myself.
You know, just mom things.
These are the things that
don't get celebrated. They're the just mom things. They're the things that most
people probably won't ever see.
They don't see you stand in the bathroom and
gather your resolve every morning. They don't see those of you who mother alone
without much support. They don't see the trips to the car back and forth and
back and forth. They don't see you counting to ten at least a dozen times
throughout the day. They don't see you look at the bank account and sigh,
trying to figure out how to make three meals with what's left in your pantry.
They don't see you walking into the principal’s office, doctor's office,
friend's house and defending your child.
They don't see bandages placed on knees. The
endless kisses we place on foreheads at night. Pillows pushed just the right
way and blankets tucked to the perfect demands. Laundry folded and refolded.
Tears that threaten and sting your eyes as you just keep going. Dinners lovingly
prepped over the stove. They don’t see all the times of laughter over silly,
little things. Or tears over hair being brushed and pulled back into pony
tails. The prayers we pray over little
babes. Nights spent sleeping in a chair cradling a sick child. Days where the
house is a wreck; you're content just reading books. The brave smile on your
face, even when you're tired and weary.
Those things matter.
Those things are the little things that add up
to big things.
I say those things are enough.
Don't
be weary, dear mother, in trying to keep up with a supermom agenda. There is no
supermom, really - that supermom, which has everything together, is just a fallacy.
There are real moms. Real, authentic moms who aren’t afraid to admit that they
don't have it all together but, they keep on fighting. Scared and tired moms,
who keep on fighting. Moms who are
overwhelmed by keeping up with their littles, their work, school, and housework
all day long, day in and day out. Moms like you and I who sometimes feel lost
in a world of outward accomplishments.
A mother isn't based on external perfection. A mother is the person, the woman,
just like you. The woman with little ones in her care that she loves, sometimes
wondering how she loves them because they're driving her batty, but still she
does. She fights, gives, prays, works, and doesn't give up; even when she just wants
to throw in the towel.
That's you. Yesterday.
Today. Tomorrow. Always.
It is more than enough.
You are amazing.
.JPG)
