I'm Not Who You Think I Am
I'm sitting on the couch during nap time. My 5-year-old, 4-year-old, 2-year-old, 1-year-old, and 7-week-old are all asleep. Every. Single. One. It's hard not to feel on top of the world when I have had a successful day [insert: moment, afternoon, week, etc.]. But what about those days when things don't go so well? I've found that, as a mother of multiple children, so close in age, I get a lot of comments. Encouraging comments, mind you. "I don't know how you do it." "You're my hero." "You are an inspiration." These kinds of comments give me a little boost on those days when I'm not feeling so great, but at the same time, I want to argue back. I suspect it's both due to insecurities, as well as the desire to avoid contributing to the "social media lives" epidemic we have in our society. Regardless, this is a blog for you. The mom, parent, friend, teacher, pastor... whoever you are... that thinks I have things together. Let me just tell you... I don't. I'm no better than you. I just want to set the record straight.
As a recovering perfectionist, it's hard for me to admit, but I'm not a perfect mom. You're surprised, huh? 😏 In fact, most days I don't even feel like a great mom. And at times, I'm struggling to feel like a half-decent mom. Despite what you may see on social media, I have a whole lot of flaws. The point of this blog is to help you see the human behind this mom - to recognize all the great things you already are too.
Some things I do well...
I cultivate an environment for special memories. That sounds so lame, but it was the best way I could think to describe it. I feel this is one of the very best things I do. I am very aware of firsts and lasts, and the in-betweens. I feel I had a great childhood, and have many fond memories. I enjoyed going to the apple orchard with my family in the cool fall, traveling across the United States on road trips, sneaking out of bed after everyone was sleep to head to the grocery store with my dad to eat ice cream, attaching our husky to the sled and having him drag my youngest brother across the snow... I want my kids to have those same types of memories (Except, the fall and winter activities are going to need to be a little different because, well, we live in Texas now). We are intentional to do fun things as a family, and I always make sure to take pictures. My dad was always good about that growing up. When I see pictures, memories spark. I want my kids to be able to remember all the fun we had together. Not only do the big things matter, but also the little rituals in between. It's the affirming version of twinkle twinkle we sing to our kids at bedtime each night. It's the conversations we have at the dinner table each night as a family. It's the movie nights that happen each Friday night in our living room. Special memories don't have to be big to be meaningful.
I'm dependable. While there are exceptions, I stick to the routine. Lunch, naptime, snack, dinner prep... Things around here happen at about the same time every day. I'd liken our house to that of the Von Trapp family from the Sound of Music, but much less regimented and with a lot more love. My theory is that there has to be structure in raising little kids, but even more with each child. If we didn't have structure, my house with be completely mad at all moments. So I keep things consistent.
I love my kids. You do too? What a coincidence! I guess we can be friends, then. And even if you are having a bad day and don't feel like you love your kids, I'm still your friend. Because, if I'm honest, I have moments like that too. At the end of the day, we still love our kids. I do. I know you do too.
Some things I don't do so well...
I worry. I catch myself in traps of utter despair at times. Am I good enough mom? Will my life point them enough to Jesus? What if they grow up and don't want anything to do with me? If I can't help heal the trauma, what then? Will they remember every bad moment I've had as a mom? Can they ever forgive me for my short-comings? And on.... and on.... and on.... and on.... If there's one thing I'm good at, it's knowing my failures, and I worry that these failures will be too much for other people (Because they're sure too much for me). The life of a recovering perfectionist.
I'm not their playmate. I'm always around. I'm always there to referee the situation (working on that!), but when it comes to getting down on the floor and actually playing, I don't do it very often. I'd like to do more. I'd like to get better. But it's not a strength of mine. I suppose that's why I have five kids though... so I don't have to entertain them 24/7! 😀 One thing I'm definitely not is a 'fun mom.' Though I'm not a 'fun mom,' I like to think my kids have fun with me. I bet yours do too!
I'm not patient. My mom was really good at staying even-keeled when she was upset with us. Somehow she managed to never raise her voice at us (At least not that I can remember), yet didn't let us off the hook. I wish I had some of that, because I can tell you I've yelled at my kids. Yep, I have (You can add 'apologizing' to the list as one of the things I've become pretty good at). I've jumped to conclusions and assumed guilt just because I was already annoyed with that child. Maybe motherhood is my pathway to patience, because I could use some more of it.
I don't know what I'm doing. I have been at my whits' end more times than I can count because I feel like nothing I try is getting through to this or that kid. There's not one parenting method that works all the time. There is no playbook for parenting a child from a traumatic background. I don't have a crystal ball to stop my kids from doing something completely ridiculous. I'm your everyday mom with a whole lot of kids. I make mistakes. I spend too much time on my phone, or doing things around the house, or trying to keep my ducklings in line instead of letting them just be kids. I'm far from the mom I want to be, but I choose to take steps everyday in the right direction. With God's help, I'll at least get a bit closer!
As a recovering perfectionist, it's hard for me to admit, but I'm not a perfect mom. You're surprised, huh? 😏 In fact, most days I don't even feel like a great mom. And at times, I'm struggling to feel like a half-decent mom. Despite what you may see on social media, I have a whole lot of flaws. The point of this blog is to help you see the human behind this mom - to recognize all the great things you already are too.
Some things I do well...
I cultivate an environment for special memories. That sounds so lame, but it was the best way I could think to describe it. I feel this is one of the very best things I do. I am very aware of firsts and lasts, and the in-betweens. I feel I had a great childhood, and have many fond memories. I enjoyed going to the apple orchard with my family in the cool fall, traveling across the United States on road trips, sneaking out of bed after everyone was sleep to head to the grocery store with my dad to eat ice cream, attaching our husky to the sled and having him drag my youngest brother across the snow... I want my kids to have those same types of memories (Except, the fall and winter activities are going to need to be a little different because, well, we live in Texas now). We are intentional to do fun things as a family, and I always make sure to take pictures. My dad was always good about that growing up. When I see pictures, memories spark. I want my kids to be able to remember all the fun we had together. Not only do the big things matter, but also the little rituals in between. It's the affirming version of twinkle twinkle we sing to our kids at bedtime each night. It's the conversations we have at the dinner table each night as a family. It's the movie nights that happen each Friday night in our living room. Special memories don't have to be big to be meaningful.I'm dependable. While there are exceptions, I stick to the routine. Lunch, naptime, snack, dinner prep... Things around here happen at about the same time every day. I'd liken our house to that of the Von Trapp family from the Sound of Music, but much less regimented and with a lot more love. My theory is that there has to be structure in raising little kids, but even more with each child. If we didn't have structure, my house with be completely mad at all moments. So I keep things consistent.
I love my kids. You do too? What a coincidence! I guess we can be friends, then. And even if you are having a bad day and don't feel like you love your kids, I'm still your friend. Because, if I'm honest, I have moments like that too. At the end of the day, we still love our kids. I do. I know you do too.
Some things I don't do so well...
I worry. I catch myself in traps of utter despair at times. Am I good enough mom? Will my life point them enough to Jesus? What if they grow up and don't want anything to do with me? If I can't help heal the trauma, what then? Will they remember every bad moment I've had as a mom? Can they ever forgive me for my short-comings? And on.... and on.... and on.... and on.... If there's one thing I'm good at, it's knowing my failures, and I worry that these failures will be too much for other people (Because they're sure too much for me). The life of a recovering perfectionist.
I'm not their playmate. I'm always around. I'm always there to referee the situation (working on that!), but when it comes to getting down on the floor and actually playing, I don't do it very often. I'd like to do more. I'd like to get better. But it's not a strength of mine. I suppose that's why I have five kids though... so I don't have to entertain them 24/7! 😀 One thing I'm definitely not is a 'fun mom.' Though I'm not a 'fun mom,' I like to think my kids have fun with me. I bet yours do too!
I'm not patient. My mom was really good at staying even-keeled when she was upset with us. Somehow she managed to never raise her voice at us (At least not that I can remember), yet didn't let us off the hook. I wish I had some of that, because I can tell you I've yelled at my kids. Yep, I have (You can add 'apologizing' to the list as one of the things I've become pretty good at). I've jumped to conclusions and assumed guilt just because I was already annoyed with that child. Maybe motherhood is my pathway to patience, because I could use some more of it.
I don't know what I'm doing. I have been at my whits' end more times than I can count because I feel like nothing I try is getting through to this or that kid. There's not one parenting method that works all the time. There is no playbook for parenting a child from a traumatic background. I don't have a crystal ball to stop my kids from doing something completely ridiculous. I'm your everyday mom with a whole lot of kids. I make mistakes. I spend too much time on my phone, or doing things around the house, or trying to keep my ducklings in line instead of letting them just be kids. I'm far from the mom I want to be, but I choose to take steps everyday in the right direction. With God's help, I'll at least get a bit closer!
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