Just finished re-reading Desperate: Hope for the Mom Who Needs to Breathe by Sally Clarkson and Sarah Mae. This is a great book for any mother who’s ever felt like they’re failing their children. Like I mentioned in my Ode to Motherhood post, there’s so much riding on mothers. So many voices telling you what you should do. Desperate helps you navigate finding your voice as a mother, defining how you want to be present in the lives of your children and aligning that to what God intended with motherhood. It teaches you how to build a support network, create beauty in your life and enjoy your children!
I love my kids don’t get me wrong but sometimes being a mother is hard. So many people judge you based on what their idea of motherhood is. Some days I wish I could go to the toilet by myself with no interruption. Sometimes I resent my kids for having tantrums. I don’t wake up immediately when they call out for me. I delay getting out of bed to make them breakfast. Sometimes their socks don’t match because I didn’t do the laundry on time. Their hair will look a mess because I’m tired of fighting to get a brush in.
Most days I impose myself on them, my way or the highway. Finding strength to make dinner and have no one eat can shatter your mom-esteem. I go to work and I never see them wake up. Some days they’re sleeping when I come home. My house is a mess because I haven’t cleaned in a while…it’s not a health hazard but not ideal either.
Sure I have my ideals that I want to live up to. All mothers want to give their kids the best. I struggle with knowing when to cook for them or fold laundry. My two year old will literally scream herself to death to get my attention. I swear the neighbours think I’m abusing those kids.
I love my kids don’t get me wrong but sometimes being a mother is hard. But then I think what if I didn’t have them in my life, I would be more put together but my life would be empty. There would be no-one running around the house looking for me. No-one who thought getting a hug from me is their biggest comfort ever. I would go to the toilet myself yeah but no-one would be in that much of a hurry to tell me about their days. There’d be no-one to dress up. No-one to love me with the same fiery love that my kids love me with. They don’t have a perfect mom, maybe they never will but I’m theirs to have forever.