There are lots of things I am not. Outdoorsy. Tall, Neat. Mathematically inclined. But one thing I've always considered myself is nice. I try to be, anyway. It's the way I was brought up, and I generally go out of my way to avoid being mean or snippy or short. Of course, sometimes it happens. And when it happens, the recipient, unfortunately, is usually my husband. I have been known to say charming things like: "Why is the TV so loud??? My head hurts. Eva talks constantly!" and "How can one person have so much laundry. All I ever do is laundry!" and "I can't take anymore whining! That's all I hear, all day long!" Naturally, as I say this, I am whining. And naturally, my husband points this out.
"You can't whine when you are telling them not to whine."
He immediately regrets this comment.
Sometimes, of course, it's my girls who get the worst of it. "You have to watch what you are doing, Lola! Why are you always breaking things or bumping into things! Pay attention!" Or: "Eva - I can't listen to to you every single second. Sometimes mommy needs quiet!"
Sigh. I guess I can be mean and short and snippy. Not that this is my intention. I want to be patient and soft spoken and a bottomless fountain of love, but there are days when I am just so tired. There are days when every hour is packed and every button is pushed and it takes every last fiber of my being to make it from lights on to lights out. When I tumble into bed at the end of the day wondering how I lost control of my day, my patience, and my dream of perfect mommyhood.
And I know I am not alone.
I was talking to a friend Friday night who told me about the rough day she had with her adorable, angelic-looking two year old. Her daughter had spent much of the day spilling everything she could get her hands on (dry cereal all over Mommy's bed, crayons out of the box, etc.) and saying "No!" By the time the babysitter arrived, my friend gladly handed her over.
And last week, a very sweet, easygoing mom at Eva's Little Gym class, the kind of mom who never seems to mind running around after her toddler son, and even seems to enjoy it, told the group of us the story of how, after a particularly stressful, exhausting day, she took off the moment her husband walked in the door from work. She didn't say a word. She just got in the car and left.
Why didn't I think of that?
And while talking to the moms in my French group, my supersmart friend Liz, an intellectual and an English professor, eloquently summarized a mom's dilemma using various literary and feminist references, but concluded by saying: "The reality is that it is just so hard!"
It is hard. And that's why we need each other. We need confirmation that there are other mothers out there, in the trenches, fighting the good fight, doing their best and some days, falling far short of their ideal. We need to be reminded that kids grow up quickly, that they are amazingly resilient, and that this, too, shall pass. Whether or not we want it to. That's why I am so happy to be in the middle of
Saving Super Mom, a timely, relevant Bible study that is gently reminding me of why I bother with all of this to begin with. Right now, I am trying to refocus on the really important things in my life, and to me, they can be summed up in the title of a bestseller that has been on my must-read list for a couple of years:
Eat Pray Love. I haven't read it, but the title pretty much sums up the three essentials of life. So here's my take on making the most of the important things:
Eat: Fundamental, yes, but far from simple. When I spoke to Karen LeBillon, she said that the French have a word,
aliment, that is not entirely translatable. It means food, yes, but it also means nourishment. We eat, of course, but often it is whatever is around, or whatever is left on our kids plates, and we don't usually take the time to really care for ourselves, whether that means preparing a quick, healthy breakfast or taking our vitamins, exercising or going to sleep half an hour earlier. And we all know what happens when Mommy doesn't feel well. The world falls apart. My mom is fond of reminding me: "Take care of yourself, because nobody will ever care for them the way that you do."
Pray: As I struggle to settle on a time of day that is best for me to have my quiet time, I try to remind myself that when I have that time doesn't matter - just as long as I find a way to work it in, most days. So I've been keeping my Bible and devotional books in my car, listening to uplifting talk radio or music as I drive, and generally trying to have a more prayerful attitude throughout the day. Some days it's a struggle, but when I manage to "pray without ceasing", I find that the entire mood of the day is different. There is more peace, less panic.
Love: A few years ago, I read something in a parenting magazine about how you should make sure that your eyes light up every time your child enters the room. At the time, my oldest daughter, Lola, was a newborn, and she didn't enter the room - I did. And every time I saw her she took my breath away. These days, when comings and goings are more frequent and more frantic, I find myself having to pause and remind myself to try to always, always see my girls through loving eyes. Sometimes it's not easy, but it can mean the difference between correction and criticism, between building a child up and tearing them down. I know there are times when my words are unnecessarily harsh, or when the punishment exceeds the crime. The solution, as I see it, begins and ends with love. Approaching the stresses of motherhood in a loving way will help me separate the mountains from the molehills, and help make me a better mommy.
Now if only I could stop whining.
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