Because Mothering Matters...

From one sometimes-snarly-and-snippety-mom to my fellow moms out there...who I assume are sometimes snarly and snippety, too. You are, right? It's not just me? Whew...

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Recently I read a list about the many hats we mothers wear and it made me smile. It also made me tired. In this roll call I recognize many of my day-to-day demands:

I am...

a mom,

a personal assistant,

a chauffer,

a singer,

a cleaning lady,

a laundress,

a hero,

a boo-boo kisser,

a librarian,

a swing pusher,

a bug killer,

a chef,

a big ole meanie,

a toy package dismantler,

a teacher,

a student,

a referee,

a stroller-pusher,

a dancer,

a mess.

Maybe I cried a little bit when I hit that last one, because it's so painfully true. Sometimes this role of mother is glorious and I hold my head high, proud of my role as mom:  when my daughter sticks her cartwheel on the balance beam or when my son surprises me with a hug (in front of his 6th grade buddies). When my girl snuggles up with me on the couch or when my littlest tells me that the best part of her day was me.

But honestly, many mornings and often in the afternoon, motherhood is more like trumping through the mud-slogged trenches than it is singing and traipsing across the mountaintops.

Kids fight.

Milk spills.

Laundry multiplies.

Meals flop.

Germs infest.

Toys breed.

To-Do lists lengthen.

Homework disappears.

Tempers flare.

Patience thins.

And just as I reach the end of me, inevitably another desperate need rears its ugly and demanding head and I have to dig a little deeper and stretch a little farther, knowing deep in my weary heart that I'll start the battle over tomorrow. Hence my tearful response to that final line...I am a mess.

But within this mess of mothering, I find meaning because mothering matters to God. 

He tends His flock like a shepherd:

He gathers the lambs in His arms

and carries them close to His heart;

He gently leads those that have young.
Isaiah 40:11

This gentle reminder that God cares for me in the midst of my caring for my family stirs something deep in my soul, stirs up a desire for my day-to-day to be different. It would seem that I have two choices when I face the endless demands of my household:  I can put my head down and tackle my chores purely out of a sense of duty because that's what "good moms" do (blech). Or, I can ask God to transform my attitude and empower me to embrace each task as a sacred responsibility in tending to the welfare of my family. In this light, the above list takes on an entirely new vibrancy...

A personal assistant with the unique responsibility of preserving our family-time, hands linked around the dinner table.

A chauffer with regularly scheduled quality time with my kids when they're strapped into their seats and can't get away from me.

A singer with the privilege of introducing my kids to the wonder of 80's music and utterly embarrassing them by belting out the lyrics.

A cleaning lady with the unique honor of making this house a haven for my family.

A laundress with the weekly blessing of praying for each one in my family, from the tops of their heads to the holes in their socks.

A hero because I can tell you where to find almost anything in the house, be it your shoes, your homework or the exact location of that sticky rubber frog you got at the doctor's office.

A boo-boo kisser with the capacity to comfort my kids, whether it's a skinned knee or a wounded heart.

A librarian sharing in the joy of exploring new and incredible worlds without ever leaving the living room couch.

A swing pusher with front row seats to the uncontainable joy of feeling the wind in your hair and the sheer exhilaration of flying.

A bug killer who is sometimes a bug rescuer, teaching about the preciousness of life and the need to respect and care for God's creation. (Unless it's an ugly spider...then squish.)

A chef with the responsibility to care for the insides and outsides of my brood by making sure that what goes into their bodies is beneficial for them, while also passing on a passion for good food and kitchen dancing.

A big ole meanie with the tough job of instilling in my kids a healthy respect for authority with the willingness to sometimes "not be cool".

A toy package dismantler with hands on opportunities to model patience, restraint and a muzzle over my mouth in challenging and frustrating situations.

A teacher. Every. Single. Day.

A student learning from inside this crucible of motherhood about God's goodness. And also learning a lot about new and complicated ways to do simple math.

A referee striving to teach my children about fairness and justice. And about the hidden blessings of serving and letting someone else have the last package of fruit snacks.

A stroller pusher with daily opportunities to stop. Slow down. Explore the habitat of roly-polies. Marvel at the wonder of springtime. 

A dancer laughing as my kids either sit slack-jawed or clap their hands over their eyes as I demonstrate my amazing dancing skilz.  

A mess...I'm still a mess, but a mess with a purpose.

This shift in perspective has not altered my mother lode of tasks but it has had a life-altering impact on the load this mother is able to carry. As long as I remember that my mothering matters.

As we enter into this weekend and pause for a moment to honor motherhood, I hope you will find a moment to acknowledge that while you are exhausted, you are exhausted for a good reason. And I pray that you will hear clearly when God whispers to your heart that you are an amazing mother to your children and your mothering matters. In ways you can't even imagine.

A snapshot of a moment when I remembered
the sacredness of my mothering.

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I added a few additional "jobs" to the above list, roles that I find myself filling on a regular basis. I'm sure you have a few you would add, too, and I hope you can find a lighter and brighter perspective on those jobs, as well.  Blessings on you!

The original list can be found here.

small things {onions}

small things #45 ... onions

I’ve described my daily plate-spinning, multiple-hat-wearing, here-and-there-running situation as over-committed.  Or a lesson in dangerous multi-tasking.  Or an example of almost treading water.  But God gave me a new image the other day.

That of an onion.

An onion?

Yep.  An onion.

Each layer of that onion is a role that I play.  A job that I tackle.  A responsibility that I have accepted.  Something I have said, “yes” to.

Each layer is a good thing.  (For the most part.)  I like helping in my kids’ classrooms.  I enjoy volunteering at church.  I love when the laundry is clean.  Getting dinner on the table on time is a triumph.

But each layer has it’s own challenges and demands.  

I can’t be in three places at once.  Trust me, I’ve tried.  

I can only do my part, not anybody else’s.  Even if I’m tempted.  

The laundry will never be 100% clean.  Unless we run around naked.  

Dinner time is “Piranha-Time” - people are hungry and tired.  And sometimes crying.

When I encounter the sting of my limitations, a bit of my joy falters.  These individual callings begin to look a lot more like obligations.  Tasks I have to get done, people I have to take care of, jobs I have to complete.  Whether I like it or not.

And then there are the layers that I shouldn’t even have.  

Layers that I have added to my life by my failure to say, “no”.  Layers that God never intended me to have wrapped around me.  Layers that are overwhelming and cumbersome because they aren’t supposed to be mine.

What if I decided to peel off a layer?  Decided to cast off a responsibility that clings to me?  What would I find underneath?  Most likely another layer.  And another.

How many layers of should’s and better’s and ought to’s would I have to strip off before I found the first layer of I want to?  The first layer of this brings me joy?

I fear there would be a good number of onion skins littering the floor.  Perhaps half the onion would be peeled away before I found the layer that is closest to my heart.  That layer of my life in which I am at peace, satisfied, joy-filled.  I would still be facing the many tasks of life, but with a better perspective and a more positive attitude.

All those layers.  Layer upon layer upon layer.  Layers that make up what I do.  

But not necessarily who I am. 

I need God’s help in peeling back these skins to find who I truly am.  Not the volunteering, mopping, chauffeuring go-go-gaget mom, but me.

Only then can I embrace the roles He has made me for and accomplish them with passion and purpose.  And a smile.

Now.  Can someone please pass me a tissue?  

Onions ... they always make me cry.  But sometimes those bleary tears help us see more clearly.

Elasti-Girl, I'm Not

Recently, we watched "The Incredibles".  It is one of our family's favorites, but I was still surprised when that was the movie the girls chose.  See ... Aaron was gone for the evening and the girly-girls had the opportunity to choose any movie they wanted.  Any Princess-Fairy-Musical-Chickette flick they wanted.  And they unanimously voted for the Super-Hero-Family-Adventure-Action movie.  Huh ... go figure.

With this recent movie and all the fantastic super-hero abilities bopping around in the girls' heads, there has been three super-heroettes running up and down the stairs, fighting bad guys, using their force "bubbles" and pretty much, saving the day!

It is an absolute hoot to watch Liddy with her tough face (i.e. squinty eyes and poochy-out lips) speeding down the hall, skidding to a stop and yelling, "No!  Stop!  Here!"  (Pretty much her entire vocabulary!)  She has been assigned the roll of Dash, the speedy little brother, so dialogue isn't much of an issue.

Ashley, on the other hand, is playing the roll of Violet while wearing Lydia's Wonder Woman costume with the cape.  How she fits her 5 year old body into her 2 year old sister's Halloween costume requires some amazing super-hero abilities!


Norah has chosen to be Mom, of course.  Mainly so that she can be the boss, make sure the game is going the way she wants and so that she can have the amazing powers of stretching her arms and legs to inhumane lengths.  I'm not sure she's actually roll-playing so much as enjoying being herself.  Her flexible, mothering, controlling self.  :)


All this super-hero action has gotten me thinking about what super-hero abilities I would like to have.  Knowing that I am not SuperMom frees me up from choosing such boring skills as infinite patience and micro-macro-multi-tasking and makes me want to have these instead:

• Yard-Sale Radar:  The ability to drive past a yard sale and with one quick scan be able to tell if there is indeed anything there I need.  This would save me the effort of finding a parking place, unbuckling the brood, wandering amidst stuff we don't need, wrestling said "un-needed items" from brood and returning to the car empty-handed and hot.

• Telekidnesis:  The ability to move things with my mind ... mainly my children and their many belongings.  This would free me up from making multiple requests to get in the van, come to the table or get out of the shower.  I can only imagine their stunned looks the first time I plopped them in bed and pinned them down with my mind!

• WhereIsMy? ESP:  Upon being asked were Polly Pocket's microscopic left shoe is, I could say with full confidence, "It's on the top shelf of the bookcase in your room under the Mickey Mouse hat, on top of the lost pink princess sock and behind the empty shoe box you said you wanted for your treasures."  Ta-dah!

• Sippy-cup Scan:  Seeing as there is really nothing worse that wondering where the missing sippy-cup half-filled of milk might be ... this is a no brainer.  Rather than spending my quiet-time on my hands and knees looking under couches and under blankets, I could just scan my laser-eyes around the room, locate the fermenting cup of doom stuffed in the toy bin under the fish tank and dispose of the lethal concoction properly.

• Sleep Grip:  When that little person appears at the top of the stairs for the fifth time to tell me, "I can't get to sleep," (Well, of course not ... you're standing at the top of the stairs, silly!), my super-power would allow me to gently guide the oh-too-tired zombie to his or her room and with a little squeeze on their shoulder, usher them off to dreamland.

And finally ...

• Shopping Shield:  With my nifty, iridescent power shield around my kids, my shopping cart and me, I could walk the aisles without the worry of anyone in my herd running away or helping themselves to unwanted food items.  I would be able to reach through the shield to select items off the shelves, but the little people would be powerless against it.  Actually ... I wonder if it would work for my cart and kids to be in the bubble and I could walk along beside it.  And if it was sound-proof ... hey, I'm liking this more every minute!

Alas ... I don't believe that any of these amazing abilities are on God's list of spiritual gifts.  I guess I'll just have to be thankful for His Holy Spirit that can help me get through the tough days ... in spite of my plain old humanness. :)


If you could have your own SuperMom ability, what would it be?


Today's post comes on my last sane day for the next four-ish weeks ... SuperMom, indeed!  With VBS prep-work, a trip to the Eastern Slope for a wedding (yippee!), more VBS work, the actual week of VBS (Big Apple here we come!), a family trip to Wisconsin for a reunion and a quick trip back for Norah's state gymnastic meet ... I'm not sure that I will be able to do it all!  Oh ... and being a mom and wife, too. Whew!  So ... if you don't hear from me every day as usual, that's why!  But seeing as the weeks are promised to be filled with snapshots to capture and celebrate - I don't imagine I'll be able to stay away entirely!   Until next post ...