(I wrote this over a year ago….but every single word still holds true today.)
Motherhood is not for the weak. Today, for example, I changed 7 dirty diapers in under 3 hours, 5 of which were poopy. Remember, I only have two children. One of those diapers exploded out the back, up her spine, and almost made it to the hairline on her neck, all while I was breastfeeding her and trying to eat breakfast myself. Today I yelled at my toddler because she started screaming because the baby was screaming. I had reached my limit. I didn’t need to yell at the poor, frustrated toddler. How could I even be allowed to be a mother, especially to such a beautiful little soul? Why would God give me these gorgeous girls when I can’t even contain my temper over something so minor? The self-doubt, the self-disappointment, the self-criticism, the self-destruction was setting in.
Yeah, I lost my temper. It happens. We’d been in traffic, dealt with some jerk almost hitting us, waited in line forever at the drive-thru after spending 45 minutes running and playing as hard and fast as we could at gym class. We were hungry. We were tired. We had listened to the baby cry for 30 minutes straight on the car ride home. So, I lost my temper and I yelled at my whining, sobbing 2 year old to “Stop crying!” Obviously I scarred her for life and she’ll grow up with no self-confidence and become a drug-addicted stripper. All because I needed, at least, one child to stop screaming. After taking the baby out of her carseat and calming her sobs enough that I could be heard by the toddler, I knelt down and held that tiny human as close as I could and said “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I know you’re upset, just like Mommy is right now.” She just smiled at me and gave me a giant hug. “Mac ’n’ cheese, Momma! I want Mac ’n’ cheese!” She was over it. I, however, continued to feel like a giant pile of nothing for the rest of the day. It was a rough day. The poop explosions. The toddler temper tantrums. The gassy, screaming infant. The needy dogs. The slow internet. The ache in my back. The fog in my brain. The tiny voice on repeat saying “I am nothing. I am nothing. I am nothing.”
I’ve learned a lot of lessons in the last 20 plus years of my life; however, I think the biggest lessons are still ahead of me as I try to raise two beautiful, strong-willed, tough, rambunctious, intelligent girls. Being a mother is hard. Remembering, everyday, that YOU ARE NOT NOTHING is, sometimes, even harder. There’s so many things we can’t control as wives and mothers, so many things we want to protect our children and ourselves from, so many things that seem to just beat us down but YOU ARE NOT NOTHING.
You are radiant. You are beautiful. You are smart. You are kind. You are caring. You are warm. You are tender. You are loving. You are strong. You are a wife. You are a partner. You are a best friend. You are a daughter. You are a mother. YOU ARE SOMETHING. And to your children, YOU ARE EVERYTHING. No other person on the planet, including yourself, can take that away.