Great Expectations

For the love of God, will someone please save me from myself!  Being a mother is such a hard job for reasons one can’t explain to the uninitiated.  A successful parent does so much more than just keep the kids alive.  She teaches them science, and math, and manners and emotional intelligence.  She watches their every move to keep them safe, to make sure they listened, to teach them good habits and to teach them respect.

When you look at a mom, what you see from the outside is like looking at the tip of the iceberg and assuming that there isn’t more beyond the surface. The meal planning, the coupon clipping, the research on Jacobs science fair project (moms are always learning), making yet another appointment, switching laundry, peeing, all that while nursing, changing diapers, playing with baby, peeing while holding a baby, you can’t tick off a list.

At the end of the day, after all I’ve tried to accomplish, in the quiet moments, I carry guilt that everything wrong with my children is my fault. When they get frustrated about stupid stuff and throw a tantrum at 8 years old. When they try to control others because I’m doing that to everyone else.  I do those things and so much more and I CAN’T STOP!  I’m teaching through my actions what I don’t want them to do.  And after all the things I’ve tried to do, to clean the house, and nourish the minds and bodies of my children, to be a good wife and nurse and cherish a baby, while savoring it all and maintaining my sanity, I’m tired and not sure if I did anything as well as I intended. 

I don’t know if I can ever meet my own great expectations of myself; but when he tells me “thanks for dinner, babe.”, when my kids say I’m the best mom ever, and when my baby giggles, I relax a little.  The kids are alright and God’s grace can cover anything I lack.

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