Today... I worked my butt off. Normal morning routine. Kilt it at the gym.. not. Came home and whisked time away in toddler land with potty training and then several sides of breast feeding. Picked my pre-k’er up at noon, per the ushj? (usual). And then hysteria struck. A Tornado warning was issued.. Death con 4. Or something like that. They let regular school out early. My husband is gone. We live on an isolated, hill-side, lot, and so I sought out support at my in-laws. They were saints. My children.... the opposite. The tornado was “supposed” to hit by 5. We left at 5:15 to head to Mr. Burger. Hungry kids trump swirling, raging, winds. And here is what I’d like to make clear, with all of my sarcastic remembrancing. I. Love. Being. A. Mom. I “complain.” I “whine.” I “discipline.” I AM tired. But all of my stories, my admittances, my... diary entries, I CHERISH. I love, LOVE, the spilled milk. I love it. I adore the mis-matched clothes, inappropriately dressed school-children, smart comments over snacks, and even the incessant, incessantness. And I love to laugh. And I LOVE my kids. I’m so thankful to wear the day and the season and to report back. These are my memories that I will forever cherish and I want to laugh with you and spark joy, because I’m PROUD of my life and not making fun of it.. even though I am. I begged God, begged Him, to make me a momma and to GET to spend my days momming, and He BLESSED me. I hit the jack pot, even with all 4 on my own, minus my hubby for a week again. Thank you, Lord. Though I wasn’t prepared for these unanswered prayers, I am GRATEFUL. Don’t judge what I share with you and misunderstand my stranger-to-YOU-heart..... I would choose this. I feel promoted. This mom thing has been a dream. I’m not minimizing all of the struggles, but I definitely want to highlight the preciousness to me.. these struggles BELONG to me. Please do not try to understand or relate or empathize or trace or same-page me. I am a mom and I am immensely, immensely, grateful about it. My off-handed comments come from a place of insecurity and not complacentness. My kids deserve the best and that is my goal, and my memories I feel inclined to share, to laugh us together. I’m not perfect, great, mediocre, or professional, but I’m THEIR mom and that makes me chosen. You too. At my glass full with four kids, don’t think that any part of this is logical or able to understand. Just join me. Please. Crazy is funner with friends. But Jesus still reigns.. and I’m still learning how to graciously be a mom. Please, please, don’t judge me. Just join me. And God is so so so kind and good. The end, thank you!
So, to the post or posts I read about wishing my kids behavior to make me happier or more comfortable or meet my expectations... take a hike. I’m so in over my head that if youre not offering me resolution, check pleaas. This is hard and it is real and I work my butt off.
Tornados or fitness boot camp or potty training, breastfeeding, or momming, I work my butt off, and I HOPE even somewhere deep.. there is a reflection of Jesus and His Saving Grace upholding me. Per the ushj.