Some days are heavier than others. Especially for mamas.
It was one of those days where the little things that go wrong pile up so high you are tempted to count them, list them, roll them between your fingers like a worry stone in your pocket.
The day had exacted an emotional tax that left me bankrupt by 4:30pm.
I remembered reading about the math of gratitude, the counting of good rather than bad. My scales were tipping all the wrong directions. Fractions and decimals included.
I noted the yellow wildflowers on the side of the road. I mumbled thanks for them. I wondered how many thanks I would have to count before I felt less loaded down.
That’s when the tears started; hot and warm. Silent and undesired.
I covered the side of my cheek so my 13 year old wouldn’t see them. The grocery store crept closer.
“Mama? Are you crying?! What’s wrong?” She noticed anyway.
My mouth was a damn and I couldn’t answer her or a river would break through. I wondered if the other drivers in the parking lot were noticing my breakdown as we pass each other by on a Tuesday evening.
“Someday when you are 40, maybe you’ll understand,” I tell her.
There are some things a teenager just can’t comprehend.
Like the last, and fourth baby… no longer in a womb that has swollen six times.
Like the weaning beginning the end of breastfeeding.
Like being in the middle of your life and the end of your checkbook.
Like the pain of watching your little ones – flesh of your flesh – get long needles in their legs to prevent some future illness you can’t even imagine. How their cries burn your heart and their eyes declare you a traitor for helping the doctor hold them down.
Like the feeling of knowing you are not the rock your family needs you to be, but rather a battered leaf in the gutter, washed away and torn.
Like knowing your parents are fragile, and one day they might not be there when you need to hear their voice.
The last thing you should do on a day when heavy thoughts are crushing a frail heart is to blog about it. But maybe those are the times that feel the most real. The times when your senses are so overloaded they spill over through your finger tips onto the keyboard?
Either way, there will be heavy sleep tonight.
There might be another dream of your elementary friend finding out she’s pregnant, having a beautiful baby boy with the same color curls as your youngest son. Or blissful, deep sleep between nursing sessions… and floppy, sweaty little arms (with rubber-band wrists) that reach out to make sure you are still there, even while he’s dreaming.
I smile. A mother’s smile of bliss. For surely there is no sweeter bliss than a mother’s.
I don’t have to mumble a thanks for something like this. This tops the yellow flowers on the roadside. It tops the entire day off like whip cream and cherries on a Sundae. It melts piles and piles of emotional woes; fills a mama’s cup back up with hope for a feather-lite tomorrow.
Maybe it’s all about making a difference? Maybe that’s all that matters.
And you’ll never outgrow a job like that.
Not when they stop snuggling next to you in the night…
Not when they stop kissing you on the lips because they realize you’re a girl and not just a mommy…
Not when you hand them the keys to your car for the first time…
Not when they hand you their own swaddled baby to admire and spoil as a grandchild…
Yes, making a difference.
Right now.
– – – – – – – –
Lord, let me be present even in the pain, always in the waiting – just like at the doctor’s office and during the shots.
Let me hold on and not give up or give in. Show me my purpose this day anew.
Let me count blessings, even when I feel like I’m at the bottom of a pile. Because You have offered to bear my burdens.
Remind me of the cherries and whipped cream on top, that I may savor them entirely.
Help me to make a difference for You… and to see how HUGE (and how small) that might look in each moment.
Wow! God sent me to your blog for a reason this morning.
It’s 3:30 AM and I am so stressed that I can’t see straight. I’m a wife, mother of two, and a school teacher. I’m off during the summer and should certainly be enjoying my time off, but I haven’t been since the beginning of July. I have been ready for school to start back because I feel trapped in my home. I love my babies more than anything in this world, but the constant whining, breaking things, fighting, destroying, etc., etc. has caused quite a few break downs for this momma. We’re trying to save up to buy our first home, so outings are few and far between and our vacation was over the top this year. We stay home…all day, every day.
Now that school starts back in a little over a month, everything seems to be piling on. School shopping for my little 1st grader, school shopping for me (which can be oh so expensive because I’m only a second year teacher and I still need so much), have a garage sale (to help pay for my school shopping), cleaning out and decluttering everything for the garage sale, doctor appointments left and right, joint birthday party for my girls, repaint my classroom furniture…it’s just all piling up and I’m running out of time.
So, as I was reading your post, I was sobbing like a baby. It made me think of how much I love my babies and should enjoy this time with them. They won’t be babies for long. I need to squeeze them and inhale their sweetness while I still can. Instead of feeling resentment toward them, which I hate to admit that sometimes I do. I feel that it would be so much easier to put them in daycare so that I could get things done, but at the same time…part of the reason I became a teacher was so that I could spend time with my kids during the summer.
You opened my eyes. Thank you.
Heather, oh, those words….the beauty of being inthe moment…realizing the ‘lasts’…wishing I had realized them before….but, to cherish each moment, learn from the past…..and embrace the current moment. You’ve got it!!!!! Thank you for sharing….for loving!
{Amen.}
I so can relate to a lot of that especially about parents not being there- I see my parents getting older and its hard!
sandy toe
Oh, Heather what you say is oh so true. I have felt all the emotions you have said. This one hit me right between the eyes. Like the feeling of knowing you are not the rock your family needs you to be, but rather a battered leaf in the gutter, washed away and torn. We must pray everyday to do the best we can.
Heather,
Amazing post. So real and so true. Thank you for sharing 🙂
Terra – Praying you will find joy and maximize every moment at home with your sweet little ones. I feel so blessed that I can stay home and homeschool my kids… even though we get stir crazy every now and again. I hear you on the saving money thing. Living on one income is difficult in these times.
Rebecca – I feel like I was given a second chance when I had these two little boys. My big kids are now nearing driving age (my oldest will be 16 after Christmas), and I see how short three years has gone by (my youngest is 3). I can’t imagine him moving out at 19 and being gone… I didn’t always notice the little things, the last moments… or cherish them as I should have. I am trying ever so hard to do so now.
Hsmominmo – Thanks. 🙂
SandyToe – It is so scary when your parents are ill and you see how frail they are as they age. Can’t imagine how life would be without those voices, smiles, hearts…
Debbie – Yeah, praying is definitely on my to-do list lately. I started up the Beth Moore Bible Study to get more in to the Word where I need to be parking. Now if I could just get everyone well enough to manage the homework so we could move forward.
Valerie – Thanks 🙂
This post reminds me of Karen Kingsbury’s book about Firsts and Lasts (not the title, but I can’t remember it right now.) It’s her book written about the last drop off on the first day of Kindergarten, and other “lasts” that she has with her kids.
Beautifully written post Heather:)
Big sis, you need time away with a good friend. (me 😉 When you say the word, I will whisk you away somewhere, just the two of us, where we can pour our hearts out over hazelnut lattes and lots of chocolate.
You are going through an emotionally charged time, lots of change, and it hard on a mama’s heart. Remember that you are loved by a heavenly Father who sees all, knows all, and loves you.
And, by the way, I love you, too.
<3
I’m looking forward to it – once both of us can actually get away. Life is busy, no?
Beautiful. Thank you for sharing.