Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Oh man. I saw this book at the library, read the title and added it to the stack. I couldn't agree with the title more. I grew up babysitting. I used to call mom's and ask if I could come over and play with their kids. Ha! I worked as a nanny, babysat every day of the summer for families with working mom's. I took kids on bike rides, plane rides and entertained two sweet boys on a tour bus. I babysat all through college, seminary and even while married and living in Montana, I babysat.
So when we first got pregnant I didn't feel a bit apprehensive. I knew babies. I knew toddlers. I knew tantrums and bedtime routines and how to get herds out the door and into the car. I was ready.
But yesterday I called my mom bawling. I told her I just wasn't cut out for this. I have a cold, Elsie is so fussy lately and isn't sleeping. She was up all night the night before and I was running on no sleep. Ivar is testing, always testing. Trying to find every boundary. And yesterday I just couldn't see any relief. This is my every day. My weekends look no different than my weekdays. And it feels like I am on some perpetual crazy cycle of wiping noses and then wiping bottoms and then noses again and bottoms too.
Yesterday I took a phone call with a woman I really wanted to talk with. I had just made mini muffins (from a box) and as I tried to keep my kids quiet enough so I could really contribute to the conversation, I fed my children a dozen mini muffins. A dozen. Twelve! Mini muffins! Just to keep them quiet.
But thankfully, as happens with every day of motherhood, bedtime came and I got a good nights rest in me. And I woke up feeling ready for this day.
It makes me feel so manic, but I am starting to think that maybe motherhood is manic. My patience has never been tried like this before. I am finding my ugliest self inside of me, a sinful girl that I used to be really good at keeping at bay. But she's tired and irritable and impatient and hungry and selfish and sinful. And she's me. I'm trying to come to terms with that...the girl I thought I was, versus the girl I now know I am. Motherhood is a different kind of refiners fire. And I find myself humbled, aware of my weakness and able to see my inability to do it on my own more than ever before.