It’s been one of those days. Actually months. Maybe years? I don’t even know anymore. It’s a season of “why is life so freaking hard?” mixed with “I never want these moments to end!” And I don’t mean hard in a tragic or desperate kind of way. I mean basic functioning hard… Why is it so hard to keep my house clean? Why is it so hard to teach my children to listen? Why is it so hard to sit down for five minutes? Why won’t my dog stop chewing everything in sight? Why is the hamper full again? I just put it away yesterday. What is that? Is that poop or vomit? Why do my kids scream at each other and destroy things? Why can’t I control my emotions better? Why can’t I figure out how to discipline my kids in a non-dysfunctional way? Why is it so hard to just get up, pee, and make a cup of coffee without being yelled at or beaten to the toilet by a 4 year old who has to go potty more than I do, while my two year old is on top of the toilet refusing to let anyone pee while her pull up is almost to her knees?
It’s that kind of hard.
And then there’s the early morning sleepy eyed look that melts my heart, the sound of little feet running across the floor, and laughter echoing off the walls. It’s the block building, Barbie playing, hide and seek, fort making, painting, swinging, “watch this mommy,” playing tag, and endless snuggles and nose kisses. Its chaotic Friday night movie night and sleepovers. It’s story time and bedtime prayers. It’s looking into their eyes and seeing their soul. It’s the “you’re the best mommy in the whole world” and the “I want chyou mommy. Hold you.” that I want to hold onto for the rest of my life.
I know the days are fleeting. I don’t need to be reminded. I know this season of my life where my children are young will be over before I’m ready. And yet I can’t help but feel like each season I’ll still ask, “why is life so freaking hard?” mixed with “I never want these moments to end! We’ll all just be a little bit older.
And then there’s me. The me that existed before this life of motherhood. The me that still exists yet can’t be let out until the moon has risen. And I’m tired. Tired of wanting to journal my thoughts but not doing it because I want to read. Not reading because I want to study my Bible. Not studying my Bible because I want to talk to my husband without being screamed at by my kids. Not talking to my husband because I’ve been talking all day and I just want to sit alone and binge watch a guilty pleasure, ridiculous, totally unlike me television show. Not watching a tv show because I’d rather be doing some constructive. Not doing something constructive because I’ve been working all day and I’m tired. But not going to sleep because I want to exist by myself. And so, the cycle repeats itself and by midnight I’m too tired to think and too overwhelmed to do anything else because I actually decided to try to do everything I was too tired to do in the first place.
Listen. It may seem like I’m complaining and having this “woe is me attitude.” And well, I kind of am. But I’m allowed to because this is my brain dump. And I just let you into it (you’re welcome). I tried studying Gods word tonight and I couldn’t. I felt like I was reading just to write down an answer for my small group gathering next Tuesday. And that’s definitely not how I want to spend my quiet time with Jesus. I wasn’t taking in much of what I was studying because everything I just wrote above was floating around in my brain, bumping into the walls of my psyche just begging to escape.
And the more I write, the better I feel. Because this is life. It’s not easy. Raising children is hard. It’s beautiful, but it’s hard. One child is so heartfelt that she cries if I don’t put a block in the right spot. The other is all in her mind and hits me because she doesn’t want her poopy pull up changed. All the while my puppy is outside chewing my storage container, eating my bushes, and barking at my neighbor like they’re going to unleash a nuclear attack on our house at any given moment. And we haven’t even had breakfast.
It’s funny really. Like I’m actually smiling as I reread that paragraph, because while I may be placing different situations into one circumstance, ALL of those things have happened. Maybe not all at once as I’ve written it, but my God, some days are probably pretty close.
I guess my reason for doing this brain dump, and sharing it, if there is one, is to simply acknowledge that both the hard and the beautiful can exist together. That while I’m frustrated and feeling incredibly stretched thin, I’ve also never felt more full of love. That while im feeling like a part of me wants to break out and be free, I’ve also never been more fully myself than I am right now. In the every day. In the ebbs and flows of being a wife and mother. A homemaker and a doer. A recovering perfectionist and an organized mess.
Maybe you’re like me, or maybe you have it all together, and you’re thinking, like Úrsula looking at Ariel, what a “poor unfortunate soul.”
Rest assured though, despite my complain-y brain dump, the blessings of this life have not been lost on me. I serve a good God who sees my hard and my heart and loves me through it, every step of the way.
And he sees yours too.
That felt good. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.
Rachael
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