Yesterday we hit the trifecta of home ownership issues. Do you notice how, like with famous people dying, house issues hit in 3s? The air conditioning went out. A handful of electrical outlets decided to stop working, including the one our fridge likes to be plugged into. Then someone (*cough*me*cough*) left a rotisserie chicken carcass in our outdoor trash and it is now infested with maggots which are becoming flies which are wanting to get into our house because all of our windows are open. #firstworldproblems, I know.
"I see those moms who are bending down to their kid's level, speaking in a soft tone as their child quietly does what they say. How come that doesn't work for me?" I shared with my mom the other day as I was lamenting over the fact that I'm not the quiet, gentle-spirited mother I always dreamt I'd be.
"Those moms are just different than you." My mom explained that softer quieter souls breed softer quieter (aka more submissive) children. "Your home will always be a little more volatile than other homes, because you are...spirited."
The biggest struggle in motherhood is probably our own stupid brains. Yes, our offspring cause some issues and wear us down with their nagging and need to eat 3 meals a day (which sometimes feels like ten million meals a day), but the thing that causes me the most strife is my brain.
Everyday my husband walks in through the door and my children run full speed, trying to cut corners which never works given that corners are made from walls and walls can hit you in the face if you run into them. They brush it off and keep on running, all the while yelling his name over and over with the level of excitement that makes me assume he must be made of ice cream covered in sprinkles and presents. Every day between 5:30 and 6:00pm, my husband is greeted with enthusiasm and joy. The kids run into his long arms and squeeze him with with all they have. They tell him they love him and they tell him they missed him.
"Be honest, you are a messy person in general." I could tell he was watching the words slowly leave his mouth as if they were being physically written in the air like a painfully cliche airplane sky writing proposal. I'm sure he was wishing he could grab those words, pull them back and shove them into his mouth before they reached my ears. If the regret of speaking that phrase didn't kill him, my "oh, heeeeeellllll no" stare would probably do the job.
For a long time, it was really hard to get out and go on adventures (and by "adventures" I mean leave the house in general) with our kids because they were so little and curious and literally always went in different directions. My friends would invite me to go to the park with them and I would hesitate because I knew it would be exhausting and not fun at all. It would not be the play date they imagined because I'd spend the entire time wrangling my free-range children. Ultimately they would convince me it would be easy, after all they would be there too. Then about 30 minutes into our park date, we'd all be exhausted and it would take every thing we had just to bribe them with a granola bar to get in their car seats.
My college roommate just had her first baby boy and it has me dreaming of dinosaurs and monsters. She is going to be the most amazing boy mom ever and I giddy with excitement over getting to meet him later this week.
We're a big book family over here and I am totally that aunt/family friend who will always give books instead of toys, but I don't care. To quote Kathleen Kelly in You've Got Mail, "When you read a book as a child, it becomes a part of your identity in a way that no other reading in your whole life does.” I don't think there is any greater gift we can give our children than the love of reading, so today I want to share with you my all-time favorite books to gift little boys
Every single day, I feel unqualified to write or talk about how hard momming actually is. I look around at friends with twins, or triplets or 4 kids or 6 or 7 kids and I watch them thrive as mothers. I watch their children fall in line like ducklings when their mama calls them. I watch their children play nicely. I see those healthy, well-balanced meals they pin or share on Instagram and I can't help but think "what is wrong with me that I can't even handle two kids?"
I've been gone quite a while. It almost makes me feel unqualified to come back, but lately I have been hearing the Lord gently say to my heart "Speak to women." And then today, I received an email from one of you who shared your heart with me and reminded me that this is important. So, forgive my absence and thanks for letting me share my life with you.