I am in that stage of life where everything is busy. Husband is working hard. Baby is teething. Other children need constant in put, love, and correction. I live on coffee and survive headaches, which are a new and unwelcomed thing for me. I want to learn this stage well and enjoy it. I’m learning to relax and be happy in my chaos. I’m learning that I need Jesus all the time. I’m hoping that when this stage is over, I’ll be thankful for it. I’ll look back and say, it was hard, but it was good.
Right now I struggle to notice the moments let alone savor them. I find myself needy. I need to hear from my friends that all my struggles are normal. I also realize that it’s okay to feel stressed out and needy. It is a state of being that I’m trying to become comfortable in.
I hope I learn this quickly. I want figure out how to stay in the Word and in prayer—consistently. Then walk in that joy.
But this is hard work. This Mom stuff is the hardest work I’ve ever done. I think it may be the hardest work I will ever do.
I have this theory that those grandmothers who remind us to “savor these moments, they go by so quickly,” would never look to have this intense mommy time back. Because it is hard work. They had their chance at it, gave it their best shot, and I do say, deserve their grandmother stage. You know, where they spoil them rotten then send them back to us. But it tells me that the memories that stick best aren’t about babies who don’t sleep well because they’re teething. They might remember being tired, but they’ve learned not to resent it. They don’t remember discipline and line upon line, precept upon precept. No, they’re remembering those blue baby eyes that sparkled so brightly when nap time was over. Bouncing blond curls. Laughter. Snuggles. Victories. They remember the happy things. They savored well. I would do well to do the same.
On another note. Today I made some pretty. Then I guarded it. Havilah stole the bird and the pumpkin cookie cutter then brought them back guiltily when she was caught. Jube saw a clear pretty table and thought, “Aha! my crafting space is clear! I shall now make a paper sword!” But I said, “No. I want to enjoy my pretty space.” I get the biggest kick out of how Jube did admire the pretty though—and how Havilah can hardly keep her hands off of it. Now, go make some pretty, and enjoy your day. Savor the moments.
Yep yep. Be. Not do. And it IS hard. When I get to be Grandma, I'm going make it my mantra to tell the young ones it IS hard and they are doing and being amazing! And I'm totally behind them! :). And they're normal. And it's real and its all good.
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ReplyDeleteHey, what a good idea. I'm home all day today, well, until six this evening anyway, and I'm guarding THAT jealously. Good thoughts there about our two different stages. Yes, the preciousness is what we remember.
ReplyDeleteI could have written this word for word. It's hard to accept mess and chaos as part of normal when your soul is starving for quiet and tidy and pretty. Wish we lived closer so I could see your mess and feel better about mine. Gotta go finish dishes now....
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