Fair warning- I'm about to have an honest mom moment. My house is quiet, everyone is asleep...but I've had this thought running through my head all evening and I just can't turn off my brain. So here I am, sitting in the dark being all ponder-ful about life and stuff. I know that's not a word. It's late.
It was a little bit of a trying day. Sometimes, on the bad days, I wonder if I'm really the best person for this job. You know, the mom thing. I've always wanted to be a stay-at-home mom because I thought it would be the best thing for our family...heck, Clint and I decided we would go this route way back when we were dating (and that was in high school!).
But sometimes I wonder...would my kids be better of with someone else? I get impatient. I feel completely unsympathetic when Cbear requests the thousandth princess band-aid for a wound which is NOT BLEEDING.. I sigh when Jellybean lifts her arms up to be held and I just want to make spaghetti in peace. Sometimes I yell. Then someone cries because I hurt her feelings, and I cry out of guilt. I lock myself in the bathroom for a moment of peace. I let my kids watch too many episodes of Super Why for a few minutes where someone is not touching/climbing on/clawing at me. I forget to pray with them and teach them about God. I check out mentally and play on my phone. The list goes on and on.
I was thinking about this today and feeling like I fail. Every. Single. Day. Wouldn't my kids be happier with anyone but me? I'm completely inadequate. Then there's this quiet voice inside that reminds me...for reasons I don't understand, God chose me to be Cbear and Jellybean's mom. Even though my résumé kind of sucks. Even though my skills aren't all that honed. I must have something to offer. Or maybe he's trying to teach me something...patience, humility, grace, etc...I should have those down by now, but nope! He still chose me, knowing that I would fail and hoping that I would draw my strength from Him. And He does get me through, even though sometimes my only prayers of the day are desperate "help me"s! He does. He gets me through when I have nothing left to give, and lifts me up when I'm so deeply mired in mommy guilt I can't sleep.
My mom stayed home with my siblings and me, and I appreciate so much the impact she had on my family growing up. I don't remember very many bad days. I just remember her sweet smile, hugs, home-cooked meals, good talks in the car on the way to school, watching favorite movies together while laughing, crying, or both.
But, along with all those positve things solidified in my memory, we do have this home video. I was probably seven or eight at the time. It was right around Christmas, and nothing special was happening (I think my dad was just trying out the new video camera). It was a normal weeknight. Here's the scene: Dad and I are (supposed to be) wrapping presents, and I'm jumping in front of the camera and making faces like a lunatic. My sister is trying to avoid being videotaped at all cost, and Mom is bustling around the kitchen, looking tense and tight-lipped and yelling at my sister something about needing to practice the piano, and that I need to calm down. Then dad and I screw up the presents. My mom had labeled the boxes with the name of the person the gift was for, and somehow we mixed them all up and were trying to figure out whose was who's after already wrapping everything. Mom just shakes her head, towel thrown over her shoulder and wooden spoon in hand, like do I have to do everything around here?! You can see on her face she's near the breaking point. But i think she ended up laughing about it. (Side note: we never did figure out the right gifts and people were opening the wrong thing left and right Christmas morning...it's funny now!)
The point is, were it not for this home video, I wouldn't remember any of this. I remember the good stuff, not my mom (very humanly) getting frustrated at us for not doing what we were supposed to while she made dinner. So...maybe my kids' memories will be forgiving, too. I certainly hope they remember more snuggles than pointed fingers, and more tickle fights than exasperated sighs. Or maybe they'll remember it all, but love their imperfect mom anyway...you know, the one who messes up but tries to apologize and start over the next day. "Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it...well, with no mistakes in it yet!"
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