What About You, Momma?

Pregnancy was a wonderful time. People told me I looked great and gushed on and on about the glow I had. Strangers gave up their seats for me and I never really had to stand anywhere I went. Everyone always asked how I was feeling, and if I was doing ok. I was always offered food, lots and lots of yummy food. Everyone made sure I always had water to drink. If I looked tired, someone found a spot for me to sleep and ordered me to go take a nap. 

I felt like a queen.

Self esteem, check. 
Comfort, check. 
Importance, check. 
Food and water, check. 

Then once baby arrived, all that changed. Everyone (minus my family and husband) somehow forgot that I even existed.

“Oh, you look so tired. The baby must have been up all night! Poor baby! Hopefully he gets some rest soon, he needs it!”

“He’s crying! He must be hungry! Why aren’t you feeding him?!”

“He has a little spit up on his clothing, you should put him in a new outfit.”

“Poor thing wants to be held, why aren’t you holding him!”

I was so confused. Before I felt like a queen, and now I was nothing more than a servant. A tired servant who apparently was doing such a bad job that everyone else thought they could do it better. 

Self esteem, zero.
Comfort, none.
Importance, last.
Food and water, lacking.

At the risk of sounding whiny, I couldn’t help but long for someone to notice not just the baby, but me too. I’m tired, can I sleep? I’m hungry, can someone feed me? My clothes have spit up all over the place, can you grab me a clean shirt too? Better yet, since you likely won’t find a clean shirt of mine in the house, can you do a load of laundry while you are visiting? I want to be held, someone hold me! 

Ok, unless you are my husband or my momma, maybe not that last one. 

But in all seriousness. What happens? I felt like I was drowning but nobody around saw me. 

Now, I fully understand that babies take the center stage. Their needs come first always, as they should. I also fully understand that parents are grown adults and can take care of themselves. I'm not looking to be treated as a queen by any means. But what I'm concerned about is why people are acting as though parents aren't important anymore once those precious little bundles of joy arrive.

There are people who actually tell moms and dads to their face that they don’t matter anymore. That people only care to see the little ones now. We have actually had someone jokingly tell us “Don’t bother to come see us if you don’t have your children.” 

Jokingly or not, when you add in all the other comments that you receive, it hurts. 

During the newborn stage for both of my boys, I was pretty much in a constant, never ending state of prayer. Through each struggle I just poured my heart out to God over and over again. I knew that while I was invisible to many, He saw me. He knew I was struggling. He knew I was hurting. And He didn't just know.

He cared.

Those babies are getting an insane amount of love, you don’t have to worry about that. But those new (and even those experienced) mommies and daddies that you love and care about? They need some extra loving. They are in a constant struggle right now. They need some occasional pampering. They need some extra encouragement.

They need to know they are still important. 

The next time that you go to ask how a baby is doing, make sure to ask how the mom and dad are doing too. When you ask what you can do to help with the baby, ask what you can do to help the parents too. 

It takes little effort from you but it will make their day and they likely won’t ever forget it. 

New parents, if you are struggling with this today I want you to know that you aren't alone. That new life is so incredibly precious and is rightfully taking up all of your attention as well as the attention of everyone around you. But you matter too. You are important, not only to that precious baby you are holding but to the Creator of the universe. God Himself sees you. 

You are important to God. 

He is only a prayer away, so go ahead. Pour your heart out to Him.

He's waiting with arms open wide.

Through Your Child's Eyes

Your children don’t see their mommy as you see yourself. They don’t see the flaws, the failures, the imperfections. They have the beautiful gift of seeing through all that. 

Instead, they see the core of everything we are.

They don’t see tired eyes in the morning. They see the mommy who was up with them at all hours of the night. 

They don’t see the messy hair and lack of make up. They see the silly faces you make that cause a laugh to ripple from their tiny bodies. 

They don't see their mommy who can't even sing a nursery song on key. They see their mommy who loves to sing all their favorite songs to them over and over again.

They don't see their mommy in a stain covered shirt. They see their mommy's shoulder where they want to rest their tiny head.

They don’t see their mom in pj’s at 4pm. They see their mommy who is on the floor helping them build a tower with their blocks.  

They don’t see the floor that hasn't been vacuumed in weeks. They see the space that they can play and be themselves. 

They don’t see the kitchen sink (and countertop...and stove top) that is cluttered with dirty dishes. They see the conversations they had with you while you were cooking and eating. 

They don’t see piles of dirty laundry that need to be cleaned. They see all their favorite clothes that they had fun wearing. 

They don’t see their mommy who has zero energy to play outside. They see their mommy who cuddles in bed and reads books with them. 

They don’t see the failed Pinterest crafts and experiments. They see the laughter and the fun they had trying something new.

They don’t see when mommy and daddy can’t afford the organic foods. They see the food that they love placed in front of them for them to enjoy.

They don’t see all the judgmental glances from strangers when in public. They see their mommy who knows them better than anyone. 

They don’t see when their mommy gets scared. They see their mommy who always protects them. 

They don’t see the limits we put on ourselves. They see their mommy who can do anything.

They don’t see their mommy who wishes she was like all the other moms. They see their mommy who they wouldn't trade for the world. 

Forgive Yourself

I remember when Grayson was just a couple months old, I made what I thought was the most careless mistake I could make as his mother. 

It started one evening during dinner. He was awake when we got to the restaurant but was tired by the time we were ordering. I placed him into his car seat and covered him up with his blanket so he wouldn’t be cold. I figured he would probably wake up soon because he needed to eat, so I didn’t bother with strapping him in. 

The end of the meal came and Grayson was still passed out. Instead of waking him, I just let him continue to sleep and decided I would feed him when we got home. I put his car seat into the car and drove off. During the ride home an 18 wheeler almost drifted into my lane which was terrifying because the truck was on one side of me and the barrier for the highway was on the other side of me. I was cornered in. I slowed down and stayed behind him until I reached my exit.

It wasn’t until I had parked, walked up the stairs, and was inside the apartment that I realized that my baby boy was sitting in his car seat completely unstrapped. 

I still remember grabbing him from his seat, bringing him close to my chest, and sobbing harder than I had in a very long time. I apologized profusely to this perfect baby who had no idea what I was saying. All I could think about was what would have happened if that 18 wheeler had swerved more into my lane. 

My job as a mom is to protect my baby and I had just failed him in a way that could have cost him his life. 

I’ll never forget how hard I was on myself. I told myself I would never forgive myself. I told myself that I didn’t deserve him. That he deserved a mommy that wouldn’t forget something so incredibly simple yet so vital. I asked God why He would give me a child when it was clear that I couldn’t even properly take care of him. I told God I didn’t deserve something as precious as this baby I was holding. 

I truly believed, in that moment, that I didn’t deserve my son anymore.

Now, I’ll stop here to say that a huge part of my reaction was due to the postpartum depression I was battling at the time. It didn’t help that I had no idea I was struggling with it until way way late in the game. I just thought I couldn’t handle the emotions and that I was failing all around. But still, a part of me seriously doubted that I could ever be the kind of mom Grayson deserved. 

I remember that I hid this failure from my husband for a few days before finally breaking and admitting what I had done. I sobbed all over again. I expected him to get upset and stressed myself out over all the possible things he might tell me.

But his response? 

“It’s ok. We all make mistakes. What matters is that you are both safe. Don’t stress over it, just learn from it and move on. You are a great mother and that’s just proven in how much you are worrying about this.”

It was such a loving and forgiving response that I’ll never forget it. I should have been relieved from that conversation but I wasn’t though. I told myself that even if he forgave me, I knew better. What I had done was unacceptable. Days after the incident, I still hadn’t forgiven myself. 

A long while after this all happened, I had a friend of mine text me freaking out saying that she just got home and had forgotten to strap her baby into the car seat before driving. My response to that? 

“It’s ok! Don’t stress out, what matters is that you both are safe! You are a great mom who loves your kids deeply and this doesn’t change that, not even one bit. Don’t beat yourself up over it!”

I wasn’t just saying it because they were nice words. I wanted her to know and believe that she was a great mom. That one mistake doesn’t mean she’s not worthy. I knew it was the truth and I wouldn’t back down until she accepted it too.

The same words I desperately wanted her to know and believe were the same words I couldn’t accept for myself. 

I’m quick to forgive others but I’m harsh and unforgiving to myself. I see moms do this all the time. They make a mistake and they can’t forgive them self, even though they wouldn’t bat an eye if someone else made that same mistake. Our expectations for ourselves are so much higher than those that we have for our friends or family. 

If you find yourself being hard on yourself, I encourage you to stop and pretend that whatever mistake you just made was instead made by a close friend. What would you tell her? 

Now stop and tell that to yourself. 

You wouldn’t tell your friend that she’s worthless and useless. You wouldn’t tell your friend that she can’t be forgiven. You wouldn’t tell your friend that she doesn’t deserve her child. You wouldn’t tell your friend that her kid would be better suited with another mom. You wouldn’t tell your friend that she clearly doesn’t love her kid. You would never say all that to someone you love. 

Don’t say it to yourself, either.

That mistake you made? It’s going to be ok. You aren’t the only one who isn’t perfect. You aren’t even the first mom who has made that exact same mistake before. Your children will be ok. They probably won’t even remember whatever it is that happened. 

It’s going to be ok. 

Try to see yourself the way your friends see you. 

The way your family sees you. 

The way God sees you. 

Imperfectly perfect.

One Day

I knew that motherhood was going to be difficult. Having been a nanny for several years prior to my first pregnancy, I never once doubted that.

What I underestimated, though, was how difficult it would be. How exhausting it would be. How little time I would get to myself (do bathroom breaks count as time to myself if my child stares at me from the sink while I pee?). How often I would cry. How often I would fail. How emotionally, mentally, and even spiritually drained I would be.

All this pretty much on a daily basis.

It's hard to enjoy going out because I'm running after children constantly. I'm terrified of someone snatching my kids up so I won't let them too far away from me, but they have so much energy that they go all crazy. They always seem to hurt themselves some how. I always forget something everywhere we go. I'm considering just keeping half their closet in my trunk because, well, potty training. Need I say more? We have to work around nap schedules and going out tends to mean naptime happens in the car, or worse, not at all. It's just so much stress that it's simply easier to stay home.

It's hard to enjoy meals (especially in restaurants) because I have to either choose to feed the kiddos first while everyone else eats and my plate gets cold, or eat with everyone else while everyone stares at my kids making the mess of a lifetime with their food. Lose lose situation. And don't get me started on the trips to the potty during the meal. One time we went out with friends and I made three potty trips (with the same kid!) before I got a bite in. That last potty trip was actually right when the food arrived, of course.

And we can't talk about parenting responsibilities without talking about a lack of alone time. My kids almost never want to leave my side. It's overwhelmingly precious and utterly frustrating at the same time. Sometimes you just need 10 minutes to yourself. I'll try to sneak away sometimes (because I have the gigantic blessing of family who can help) but I'm typically about 5 steps away when the boys (especially my youngest) realize that I'm leaving. Oh, the horror. So they start crying and yelling "mommy", which of course makes me feel guilty and ruins any chance of actual rest, all while stressing out whoever I'm leaving the kids with for those moments.

It's all just too much sometimes. 

Sometimes I'm just done parenting. Sometimes I just let the kids feed themselves and say I'll clean up the mess later. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to stop what I was doing to clean up a potty accident. Sometimes I wish I wasn't the last one done at almost every meal. Sometimes I wish the kids would just play nice and quiet and that they would clean up their own mess instead of screaming and dumping every toy they own onto the floor. Sometimes I pass my phone to my kids so they can play a game while I take 10 minutes to close my eyes.

Sometimes, on the really hard days, I cry and wish for this phase to be over so we can be in the next one already.

Then I remember that one day we will be. 

One day the boys will go to the bathroom all by themselves. One day they will serve and feed themselves. One day they will pick out their own clothes and dress themselves. One day they will pack their own things and buckle themselves into a car I won't even be in. One day they will want to be alone rather than spending time with me. One day they will choose friends and girls over their mommy. One day, I may never get called "mommy" again, but just simply "mom".

One day they won't need me anymore.

Everyday that passes is a day closer to that moment. Right now I get the snuggles when we play together. I get to hold their tiny hands as we walk to the bathroom together. I get to tickle the kiddo's sides as I put them into their car seats. I get to play "I spy" and "Simon Says" and sing silly songs that we make up together while we drive around. I get to feel them breathing as they sleep in my arms. I get bombarded with hugs and kisses, and I hear "I love you, mommy" countless times a day. 

Today you might cry because of how difficult these years are. But sooner than we know it, we will be crying because we can never get these days, hours, and minutes back. This moment, this exact moment, is one we will long to relive. 

So, sure it's tough being a mom. By far one of the toughest things I've ever done in my life, even. But don't give up. Don't let the hardest of days bring you down. Those days end and usually are followed with some amazing lifelong memory making moments. 

Mommas, remember how incredibly blessed you are. Not only to have those sweet little ones in your arms, but to know that that is exactly where they want to be. Those sweet babies are in the happiest place on Earth.

Right in their mommy's arms. 

It's Ok To Be Honest

One of the most common questions asked every day by every kind of person is "How are you?".

It's a interesting question because if you think about it, it's almost always asked in passing or as a bridge question to the actual question someone has for you. Its asked as more of a filler than as something genuine  Because of this, one of the most common responses back to it is "I'm doing good, how are you?". You don't really answer the question, but rather deflect back to the other person.

It's actually one of my least favorite questions of all time (even though I ask it all the time!). I dislike it because it's hardly ever asked whole heartedly and it's usually a very surface level conversation. You almost never have a chance to truthfully answer the question.

It's become such a routine question that I'll admit, I've embarrassed myself asking it before:

Me as I'm only half paying attention: "Hello! How are you?"

The other person: "I'm doing good, how are you?"

Me: "I'm doing good! How are you?"

The other person: "You already asked me that."

...yup. I've been THAT person before.

Because of it usually bring a bridge question, I oftentimes just give the standard response back. The "I'm doing great!" answer rolls off my tongue too quickly. It doesn't matter if inside I'm hurting, or if I'm starting to feel sick, or if I'm about to breakdown in tears, or if I'm upset, or even if I just had the best day of my life and want to shout it from the rooftops.

That is, unless the right person asks the question.

There are certain people that get my truthful responses. They ask and I know they mean it. They are prepared for the good, the bad, the ugly, and the emotions that come with it all. They sincerely want to know how I'm doing.

The first time I realized that God had placed people in my life who actually cared (outside of my wonderful family!) was on a Sunday morning.

I was still pregnant with Grayson and nearing the end of the 3rd trimester. I'll admit, it was a morning that I would have much preferred to have been in bed still. I was tired, annoyed, not particularly feeling well, and just plain not feeling like myself. I wanted to be home.

My husband and I had just gotten to church and as he went off towards the bathroom, I walked to a seat and placed my stuff down. As I was doing so, one of the church members came up to me and asked me how I was doing that morning. I turned around and blatantly lied, "I'm doing great, how are you doing?"

I'll never forget this moment. The lady who asked just stared at me. Not smiling but not rudely either. Just studied my face for a moment before answering, very sternly and yet somehow kindly at the same time.

"You don't have to be fake with me, you can be real. I can tell you aren't feeling well and it's ok to not always be happy. You can be honest."

I don't actually remember what I said back, but I believe I embarrassingly murmured an apology and something about how I was ready for the baby to be here, for me to not be pregnant anymore, and that I was just incredibly tired.

She smiled and said that she understood and that she had been in my shoes a few times before with her (now grown) children. She gave me a hug and said she would be praying for me, then walked back to her seat.

I promise you, I'll never forget that interaction. She's actually a good friend of mine now. She may possibly read this post and not even know she's reading about herself. I'm sure it was a bigger conversation for me than it was for her.

Since then, I've started to realize that some people ask and really do want to know a truthful answer. It's just habit for me to want to answer simply, but that's not always what I should do. 

That's not always what is desired by the other person.

Is this how you react too? If it is, I challenge you to try answering honestly. The next time someone asks you how you are doing and it's not just in passing, actually tell them. Tell them if you are happy or sad. Let them celebrate with you or let them know you could use some prayers because you are struggling with something.

Whatever your mood is, just let someone know how you are truly feeling. Your feelings matter and you are important.

It's ok to be honest.