Mountains of laundry (and dishes) everyday. I sometimes feel my sole purpose in life is to move these mountains. It’s as if my only reason for existing is to keep them moving. Into the wash, onto the pile, folded, ironed, into the drawers, (sometimes,) onto the people, and the cycle begins again. Can I get a nod from all the tired Mamas out there?
When I fill out paperwork anywhere, and they ask: “employer…job title…[or] job description,” I want to scream. Because I have “no job,” “no career.” I am a stay at home mom. And there is no easy way to describe the work I do, which most often seems to go unnoticed or unappreciated.
This season is hard. No, it’s REALLY HARD. It’s exhausting. I haven’t slept in months now. Not more than 3 hours in a row. I’m weary to the bone. I’m so tired that sometimes I could just cry. My work is never done. I never get a “break.” I’m always on the clock. Honestly, I don’t know how I’m doing it. I feel like a mirage. A shell of my former self. My level of sleep deprivation equates to wandering around in circles trying to remember what I was doing, or where I put something, and then having no recollection of why I needed it once I find it.
I’m not alone. I feel so utterly lonely much of the time. But I am never truly alone. Even when I’m using the bathroom, someone is always needing me. Most of the time that is great. I am in wonderful spirits, and I march ahead full speed, happily going about my daily duties, using teachable moments and having small victories. But sometimes… sometimes I lose it.
If I’m honest, some nights I sit in the bathtub in the 3 hrs I should be sleeping, just to do something I like, in the quiet, uninterrupted, unneeded. Sometimes I get up for that third feeding of the night with tears of frustration stinging, wishing this time would pass. And then I feel terribly guilty for not enjoying the fleeting “little years.” Sometimes I snap at my husband for no good reason; he only asked me a question, or put his arms around me, and I pushed him away. More often than I like to admit, I give up my 3rd or so attempt to work out that day in exchange for brownies. Sometimes I let bitterness and resentment get the best of me. I find myself fuming over the silliest things. And sometimes I yell at my kids all night, because they won’t stop fighting, nagging, whining, and pestering one another. They won’t stop demanding attention, making messes and disobeying my instructions. Sometimes I come unhinged.
I can’t count the times I pray (scream) aloud each day, “Jesus, help me!” And I mean it with all my heart. I.Need.Help.
Nothing is easy. The other night I had to run into a store for pasta sauce. I found myself exhausted, in the middle of the double doors with 4 screaming children, one balanced precariously in a car seat on the buggy, one sprawled out in the middle of the floor in a full blown tantrum, and two more telling me what I was doing wrong as I frantically tried to maneuver my freak show out of the way of the gawking, irritable 5 pm shopping traffic. I so could’ve used some hugs and encouragement rather than impatient, grumpy sneers, and rude comments. I know you could too, so I’m going to encourage you Mama.
I see you. You matter. You are making a world of difference in so many ways that you can’t yet see, and may never see. This season makes you question everything about yourself. It breaks your heart letting your little one cry himself to sleep, yelling out “one more chance,” when you’ve already given him one too many. But it matters. Every rear-end you wipe, every sock you fold, every tear you dry, every consequence you serve, every mess you clean, every thing you teach. You are irreplaceable. You are needed.
And one day, too soon (then you will think) this season will be over (I’m told.) And everything in it will have shaped and prepared you for the next season you will be in. And you will be grateful, and emotional, and ready to share your wisdom. You are going to make it!
So keep up the good work. Keep crying out to Jesus. He is with you. You are never in this alone. His grace is sufficient for you, when you feel like the worst mom on earth and you just want to hide. His strength is made perfect in your weakest moments of failure. Lift up your eyes. Everyone is needing you, but where does your help come from? Your help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth.
You are beautiful. You are a giver of life. You are a shaper of minds. You are a world changer. You are more than enough.
With faith, You Move Mountains.