Being a stay-at-home mom is hard. I can imagine a world where staying at home with your kids with a nanny and a house keeper and plenty of cash to go out to dinner every night would be lovely. That's just so not my world. When you live where you work, there's a frustrating sort of feeling that can always be happening. Bird comes home at 6 or so, and he's finished. I'm "on the clock" from the time I wake up until the time I go to sleep. That's difficult, and there are moments I feel as though I will never rest again.
This morning, Izzy asked me for some leche, so I poured her a cup and set it on the coffee table in the living room. I forgot the cardinal rule of having a babyish toddler: keep everything out of reach. Not long after I settled into my cinnamon toast, Mt. Dew, and morning Pinterest peruse, (What? Isn't that what everyone has for breakfast?) I heard the dreaded "MOM!!!" I looked up to see a very innocent looking Eva, empty glass in hand, and milk covering her feet and the carpet surrounding them. I grabbed a towel and began to blot. As I cleaned the carpet, I heard "Uh...mom...."
You've got to be kidding me, kid.
A less innocent looking Eva stood there, yogurt cup empty in her grimy little fingers, and second mess on the floor. At least I had a towel out already, right? Look at me...the eternal optimist...
Before the yogurt mask covering the floor was even cleaned, I heard the sound. Every mom knows it. Tinkle...tinkle...tinkle...diaper leak, and carpet cleaning number 3.
Being a stay-at-home mom is hard.
Sunday was especially difficult. Saturday night, I had quite happily spent two and a half hours (no...seriously..) making dinner, then delivering said dinner to my parents and my grandma. When I woke up for church Sunday morning, the kitchen was still in such disarray that I knew it would take more than two dishwasher loads full to clean all the dishes. Because of the holiday week being so chaotic, laundry was piled to the sky, and walking in from church, hungry and tired and not feeling 100%, I lost it.
"Please can't we just go out to lunch?" I whined.
I knew it was a waste of money. I knew it would probably be a huge hassle, and ultimately, I would've gotten overly frustrated with a crying, tired baby and two kids who had just spent their one hour a week practicing great restraint to run and scream. I did not care.
So I whined.
And I got angry.
I just knew Bird didn't understand. This was my life. I spent every day cooking and cleaning. Couldn't I just have a break from this....this....job?
So what's a girl to do? Why, Angrily clean of course.
But as I cleaned, my heart began to ache. What if my children feel like they are my job? Like I'm doing this because I have to...not because I love them? That's when I realized it. Maybe the words I was saying to my husband (who, let's face it, did not deserve to be berated like that) were "constant cooking and cleaning makes me feel like I never get to leave work," but the truth is, what I meant was "I'm so tired of this responsibility." That included everything- kids and all.
So I began to pray that God would fix my heart and rid it of the selfishness that is there- that my time be spent serving others, not waiting to be served, and that my children would feel a warm, loving, peaceful home that their mommy created through scripture and obedience to God's word.
I opted to clear the table and make a special lunch for them. "Pizzadillas" is what they dubbed them to be and do you know what? Watching them play and giggle turned the chore of taking care of family into a blessing.
But if we could keep the carpet cleaning to a minimum, that'd be nice, too.
Preach on, preacher. I know those feelings well.
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