We see that little pink line on the pregnancy test and everything changes in an instant. We shop for tiny little baby socks, research the best bottles (even though we know we’ll never need them), and plan for outings with our tiny new bundle of joy because we believe our lives will be the exact same…just with a perfect version of ourselves wrapped tightly in a baby carrier around our body. I mean, life can’t change that much right? What real moms are like.
I woke up to a tiny hand poking my right arm. I glance over at the clock and it reads “6:32.” My gracious alive, it’s already Monday. “I’m hungry momma.” For all that is holy, she’s always hungry. The thing is, she will eat 1/2 her meal and complain 30 minutes later she wants something else to eat. I keep those thoughts to myself and literally roll my body out of the comfort of my warm bed. When did my body start hurting at the beginning of the day, I wonder.
I make my way to the bathroom, while she makes her place on my still warm bed and wait for me. We both walk to the kitchen, the light just starting to peek into the quiet house. I immediately let the dogs out. She climbs onto the bar stool. I ask her what she wants for breakfast (1st mistake), so then it takes 10 different ideas that I give her until one sticks. I should have just offered her the one thing I know she will eat. I heat the pancakes up in the microwave while she happily turns on her favorite cartoon show. My eyes feel heavy. I should have gone to bed at a decent time last night.
While the pancakes heat up, I turn myself to the coffee pot. Oh, you lovely piece of technology. “Momma, can you hand me…” I stop what I’m doing and grab the item she needs. I hear the pitter patter of her brother waking up. He runs downstairs and loudly blares “Mom, I’m hungry!!!” Coffee, give me just 5 min, I’ll be right with you.
The fighting has already started. I sway them my best mom it’s too early for this glance and then return to their objectives. I think to myself they must meet up in the morning prior to coming downstairs and come up with a plan. How can we make mom completely loose it today? I begin making a 2nd breakfast and return to my cup of coffee. “Mom, my water isn’t cold.” I turn around to fill up the not cold enough water and return the cup. I hear a dog barking.
I yell at the dogs to come back from the yard, obviously chasing some rabid squirrel, I can only guess. By this time the kids decided they are still hungry. I offer up an additional breakfast (something healthy) and I get the look of disgust from both of them. Ok, I see this is not going the way I had anticipated. I hope the momentary zombie like affect the cartoon is giving them is enough time to make my beloved coffee.
“Stop touching me with your foot!”
“I wasn’t touching you!!!”
The moment gets louder. And then louder.
I again remind them to keep their hands and feet to themselves and for all that is good in this world, let momma have her first sip of coffee. No luck. One has spilled said, now cold water, onto the hardwood floors. I clean up the dog haired cold water mess from the floor while they get down from their thrones. I hear my phone ding.
“Mom, don’t forget tonight is parent night at 6:30” the text read. I’m actually relieved he reminded me. I check my calendar to confirm I actually wrote it down. I return to my sad cup of coffee when a child asks if he can wear shorts today. I remind him that it’s currently 39 degrees outside. He doesn’t blink. I also remind him that we have already picked our clothes out today the night before. He stands firm. I know where this is going.
Said child goes through all the reasons why shorts should be an everyday occurrence. I finally get my coffee made when the dogs start barking again. Why in the hell did I think 4 dogs was a good idea? That’s all on me and I swallow the fact I’ve done this to myself. It’s now 15 minutes from when we need to leave so I rally the kids to the bathroom to get ready. One dances her way to the toilet and tells me to “look at her booty shake” while naked. I’m not gonna lie…I giggle. The other one is still sulking that pants are on the agenda today.
Everyone’s hair is brushed, teeth are somewhat clean, and I remember that I need to pack lunches. I rush to get the healthiest meals prepped all while taking that first sip of tepid coffee water. While one waits patiently as the other inspects the food selection like a drug dog. We finally are ready to head out the door.
We are warriors
Have you ever wrote down all the things you do for motherhood? Go ahead, I’ll wait. No possible right? There are so many things we do on a daily basis that it sometimes feel as though we get lost in the process. We make meals, mend clothes, shop for the holidays, and wipe tiny noses more times that we can count, but what about all those things that no one sees? I’m here to tell you sweet momma, I see you.
I see those late nights you relish in so you can have an hour to yourself to watch crap tv. I see those tears you cry because you think you could have done better today. I see those trips to the grocery store so your family can be fed. I see you research schools, medications, and the best treatments. You are not unseen. We are warriors.
Motherhood Looks like...
Motherhood looks differently for everyone. It may be everything you thought it was going to be or you may be in the thick of it. Not knowing if what you’re doing is right. I want you to remember something…you are doing the very best you can. Grace for yourself and others (including your kids) is the best advice I have ever been given and continue to give myself. This is not an easy job. If it was…everyone would do it. It would look like Pinterest and social media in real life…but it’s not. This is the real grit of life.
You were given these children because HE knew you were the best mom for them. I’m serious. HE knew/knows exactly what it was going to take to not only raise these precious children, but to refine YOU.
You are worthy of being their momma. You are good enough. You have what it takes.