It is 8:30 on a Saturday night and I am about to gorge myself on good chocolate and books. I am full of resolution. I am full of cheer. I am alone with the hot running water, in a cocoon the color of the shower curtain. My library loot is stacked beside me on the handmade, colored “Mara HEARTS Daddy” step stool. A pile of Ghirardellis on the ledge of the tub, next to my bottle of cold water.
Joe’s out snowboarding, the 3-under-3 are sleeping, and tonight I’m kicking it Mommy-style. Mommy after 3 days of no-routines, messy-house, movie-overload, good-times chaos. Mommy after 3 days of feeling slightly guilty that she has trouble going with the flow and that
she kind of resents the extra work that results from all this fun.
This is Mommy after 3 days of fun which were, somehow, more work than the non-holiday, normal routine days.
Oh, life, life, life.
Mommy pops the dark chocolate square in her mouth, grabs the book on top of the stack, sinks down into the hot water…
And thinks.
Holidays, birthdays, special days are a lot of work, but she loves them for some reason.
Building traditions seems pointless, sometimes, but she won’t quit trying.
She reminds herself of a truth both promising and frightening: they grow up. Mommyhood at this level – this diaper-changing, baby-food-making, potty training, everything-training level – doesn’t last.
No time off. No paid vacation. Heck, no unpaid vacation.
But life. Moments. Memories of Mara’s face concentrating, of Robbie’s sleepytime snuggles, of Zeke’s insistent crawling delight.
Life is a mess, life is messy, life is exhausting, life takes everything she’s got.
And this life, these moments are hers to savor, to tuck away, to ponder in her heart. Is this what Mary felt like, holding a baby Jesus, knowing, somehow, that the things to come would be more than she could understand or bear? Did she grab those peaceful moments, those “normal” Mommy moments, did she savor them, tuck them away, and hold on to them while pondering all the prophecies of what would come for her baby boy?
I am so glad the future is unwritten for my children, unknown by the Mommy. I can handle one day at a time, at most; one hour at a time, one moment at time, one step at a time.
But there’s a balance of looking forward in order to be present. You have to realize that the children grow, that the future comes in order to value this moment, in order to not be overwhelmed by the repetition of Mommylife in this stage. So we walk a tightrope. Too much focus on the future and we miss this beautiful moment. Too much focus on the moment and we can so easily miss how valuable it is.
I think the thing to do is hold that truth deep in our hearts, like Mary must have done: these moments are precious, are few. God has given us our children for this short time, to hold and nurture and cherish and teach, but He did not send them into the world just for us. He sent each one of our precious children for a particular purpose, and the time will come, swiftly come, when we will need to step back and release them.
And we will be so very, very glad then to have those moments tucked away, to pull them out and savor those memories even as we watch in awe at what our grown-up children do and become for the glory of God.
Mary, mother of Jesus: she had to see the extreme of every mother’s fear. God does not call most of us to such a test, but still there will come times when, as my children grow, I will need to stand still and let them hurt and struggle as they pursue the will of God. This time and this culture does not make it easy to follow God with passion and persistence.
If I train my children right, they will be made fun of. They will be misunderstood. They will not fit in. They will be scorned, hurt, mocked, questioned, criticized, persecuted to some degree. If I don’t train them, they’ll fit right in with the culture. They’ll default to what surrounds them. They’ll have easier lives, but I will mourn.
My greatest joy is to know that my children walk in truth. And that brings me back to what I was thinking that night, resting my head on the cold bathtub ledge, pondering how exhausting it is to be a Mommy but how rewarding, too.
I look forward to the joy I will have, if I do my job right. No, not perfectly. The grace of God is the most important element in my parenting. But I will run this race with endurance, I will look forward to the joy of watching my children walk in truth. I will love them, teach them, build traditions with them, talk with them, discipline them, hug them. I will savor these moments and tuck them away, and I will ponder the calling of God upon the lives of my children.