all the mommies are tired

All the mommies are tired. Before I was a momma I knew that it was a tiring and hard season of life but until I started living it I had no idea. No real grasp on what it's like to be exhausted and to function even though you'd rather rest. Some days I know with my 2 kids I still have so much to learn about what it is to be tired. I feel like there's more coming. In fact I know there's more coming because I'm pretty sure we aren't done with our family yet. The more the merrier right?

So many of my friends are moms in a similar stage of life with young children, who are learning with their husbands how to navigate through the fatigue, the messiness of life, and the joys and hard times that come with it. I've been so guilty of chastising myself for complaining but truth is that life is hard. It's grimy and sad, and hard. We need to stick together, because this world can suck you in and bring you down if you let it.

I recently discovered that 2 year old children can slip away from view and be out the door in no time at all. Twice. The fear that overtook me is still lingering and despite reassurance from a few friends and Toby, I feel so much fear because of, what if. What if Isla made it further outside, what if someone didn't stop her, and what if I didn't look up see her and run. I feel like the last 3 days has been a rollercoaster of up and down and then raw. This world we live in now is scary to me. She's so precious and young that Isla doesn't know it's scary though.

Isla didn't realize at the moment she walked out then ran that mommy was tired or that Lily needed attention too. Or that momma had to pick up and collect belongings because she's 2 1/2 years old, and she's not living it. After all I'm the momma and she's the baby. She didn't know her momma was praying for her to stop and to be safe, and that I started before she was born and haven't stopped. I wonder how many prayers Jesus hears a day from worried mothers. I know I breathe them so often.

2 1/2 years, the last time Toby and I were alone with each other. We love being parents, but it's stressful, hard, tiring, and worth it, but we need a break too. Fear for me can bring perspective. It can show me what counts, priorities, and if I don't let it bury me, realistic understanding of who I am as a mom. I also know what I need to change. I need so desperately to stop feeling guilty.

I'm a momma bear. I'm strong but I'm weak. I'm tired but I'm happy. I'm guilty of beating myself up for what I do wrong instead of finding joy in what I did right. I'm ready for a vacation with just my husband, to try to put away the mommy for a few hours and be a wife, and be me. To relax and not feel guilty for taking time to be a better mommy later. To chill out, unwind, breathe and maybe be barefoot and dance.

Little brown flecks

I wonder at times how others perceive me. I've been stressed and messy, and calm and collected on and off since becoming a mother. Maybe really always. I have a set of peeling furniture at my house. When we bought it 3-4 years ago it was pretty and soft. I still remember the day it came to our apartment and how cool it was to make our first big grown up purchase. Life has happened. The couch started peeling so it got a slip cover. Then the loveseat started peeling so it's now covered. Meanwhile I've been ashamed so I've hidden my peeling furniture from the view in my pictures.

We've moved things around, gotten a new sofa but the love seat is still there, peeling. It sheds its little brown flecks on my vacuumed carpet. It thankfully hasn't gotten in Lily's mouth much because we avoid it. I used to try to cover it with a blanket but blankets tend to turn into capes with Isla pretending to be Elsa. The cover helps some but it's still peeling and messed up under the cover. I stopped asking people over because I'm embarrassed of my peely loveseat.  You'd think I wouldn't care but I do.

Our solution has been just deal with it. Vacuum more often. Don't sit on it as much. This weekend it's being relocated to our family room because the superficial streak in me likes her pretty living room more than the practical side who speaks that moving it gives us  more seating in the family room. I realize at times I care far too much about what others might think of me. There are people in this world who feed their children dirt cakes to ease hunger pains and I've been embarrassed over furniture.

There have been times when I've felt imperfect so I've put my own slip cover on and hidden myself. Then others I've been too real and felt ashamed at how I've felt and what I said.

It's humbling when you realize you've been wrong. It's sometimes a struggle to remember to be grateful for what is in my life even if it's not my vision of perfect. That I have peeling couches that may be covered up, stains on my carpets from dogs and kids that seem to happen more often than not, and with each of these things and lives comes mess, responsibility, and blessings more than I could fathom. I feel so undeserving yet they are there in my life. Even when I lose sight of my priorities.

Paper Towel Dad

My husband helps. One night several weeks ago or maybe only a few my husband was loading our dishwasher while I talked to him about how bothered I was that I felt like women were martyring motherhood. While being a mom is incredibly difficult, the hours are crazy, the tasks are sometimes quite gross, and breaks are often even spent multitasking. Society has had a way of trying to empower women to feel entitled but yet at the same time we're gulited into thinking we can't take a break because strong women don't. Or if we take a break our houses and all our hard work will enter into a land of utter chaos with dad in charge. We have to do it all.

There's a paper towel or cleaner commercial that really just bothers me. Yet again mom went to go do whatever and dad let all manner of crazy happen. Crayon walls, splatters of food, gum, chaos and the commercial implies that the male species is just absolutely helpless and is a bit of a doofus. So for me I think well mom took a break, and things went nuts. Compared to what happens when I leave the girls with their daddy for a few hours the commercial is an extreme exaggeration and an extreme annoyance. Is it really ok to portray dads and husbands as though they're not capable of responsibility and respect? I personally don't think it is, yet it continues to pop up on my tv and my Facebook feed, and I'm left feeling more disgusted with advertisers than the commercial itself. Don't get me wrong it's ok to joke, but the serious dirty laundry should be in the washing machine.

I've talked to friends, and I've done an informal survey on Facebook (thanks to my partipants) that women get help. Our husbands are incredibly competent, some of them finding time after long deployments to help, doing dishes, watching kids, taking out trash, and doing yard work even though some of us ladies stay at home. I never knew how hard it was to stay at home with 2 little girls and try to get clothes folded and put away. It's hard sometimes to listen to crying in the raw hours of the early morning when sleep is all I want. I can't even imagine what it's like to work at a full time job outside of my little world here because I'm home full time and I still get behind. I've always thought surely those ladies are super women sacrificing their weekends and nights to clean, but at least their house doesn't get dirty during the day. I've thought before that I don't get why they complain when they must come home to a clean house every day. That's wrong of me. Those houses get messy too. It's ok if we're put together, it's ok if we're behind, it has to be because it is and it just happens. Any help around here is like gold and I like where I am.

Those that didn't get the same types of help, didn't have an issue with it! It's just an everyday part of their lives. It's ok to have a different dynamic where husbands don't do dishes, laundry, or pick up stuff. Living in San Antonio has given me a crash course in other culture, and it hasn't always been easy for me to understand. Our lives are not all the same, some of us who have had to learn to accept the help, while others have no desire for their husband who has been overseas, who fight fires, who protect, or who drill to do something other than spending time together. We all need breaks. It's unfair to assume everything should be fair all the time, and that what works here at our house will work at yours. It's a trap I've caught myself in before thinking if she can I can, but I can't always. I don't have to do some of the things others have to because I have help. He's honestly better at loading the dishwasher than I am but he burns my kale. It's give and take.

There was a world's toughest job video that meant to elicit mommy love because it's so hard to do what she does. It's hard, but it angered me to think that something I feel so blessed with is so agitating to others. I've had my moments, remember I promise realness, where I've felt used up, tired, discouraged, and overwhelmed. It happens. It still does. It's ok. I got angry though at that video. It hit a nerve. I'm not being shot at or trying to lift a burning beam from someone, or watching someone's son die because he didn't wear a seatbelt. I deal with diapers, the clingy, the waking at 3 am, and the burdens that aren't so heavy that come with being a momma. I feel empowered with the thickness of love when I go check on my girls at night and I don't remember what was hard about the day in those moments.

Experience leads us to learn about ourselves. Most of my life I've been around military families and I consider it a blessing though bittersweet when they get orders elsewhere. I have never once heard any of my mommy friends who are military spouses complain about what they have to take care of, it's just done. They just get it done, and it's not a question of resentment but it's life. I hope that wording comes across the correct way. It has enlightened me to what isn't that hard in my life but rather me having a bad attitude.

There have been days where I've wanted more help, but I didn't ask. I didn't ask until I exploded with frustration that I had too much to do but too many other things I could barely handle. I've been tired, entertained the wrong priorities, and been humbled to ask for help. I'm still learning how to ask for help if I need more. Plus it's incredibly attractive to watch my husband take a nosy toddler and a crying baby out of the room to play with them so I don't burn supper.

Time to feel beautiful and renewed

There's this mom who is in a mom's group I'm a member of and I have watched her minister to my heart in the last year. You see this mom often has her nails painted, her hair is well taken care of, her skin looks fabulous, and I'm pretty sure she's gone down at least 2 dress sizes since I've met her. Not to mention, she shines the love of Jesus when I talk to her. I'm not going to mention names. I don't want to embarrass her if she by chance reads this so that's that.

Do I think she wakes up this way? No, not at all. It takes effort, sweat, time, and heart. It takes heart to put down the dishes or leave the laundry, even the family to go take time to yourself. You know what, I don't like deserving attitudes in anyone but I will say that my momma friends desperately need to do something for them. Even if it's sitting outside just being still, a bath, a pedicure, crafting, or playing on the floor with 4 stinky dogs because it's just as good for them as you. It's beneficial for your family when you are not stressed out. 

These days with little ones it's hard sometimes to snatch time to yourself, but do it. Stop feeling bad because that's a choice too. I know women tend to say things to each other like, "how do you have time?" You make time. It's taken me far too long to believe this in my heart and apply it to my life!

We take care of our families. We need to take care of ourselves too. I have been so guilty of letting myself go the past 2 years because it takes effort and sometimes I feel like it's pointless to get knock out pretty for my 2 year old and 6 month old. It's not. The 2 year old is watching, and learning how she will take care of herself. She will learn priorities from me, and if I don't take the time to make devotional time, fixing my hair, or drinking a glass of water when I'm thirsty she won't either. They need to see me take care of my body so they do the same. 

I want them to watch me and know what counts. I want them to grow up, which aches, and be confident in themselves and be willing to take a hot shower, read, and make time for fitness. Or just simply spend time with Jesus because they need that time to themselves.

Happy woman is also happy wife, and a better mood is something a man can get used to because husbands don't like coming home to the frumpy grump. It's a good feeling inside when you feel refreshed, and it tends to be contagious. So my challenge to myself this last month has been to take time for myself. Pinterest and Facebook do not count. Reading, crafts, nails, walking, and doggy piles do and my husband has noticed a drastic change in my attitude. He's even had to push a little to remind me it's ok for me to go out for an hour to go grocery shopping alone. Isn't that sad? I'm letting that guilt go. I'm not teaching that to my girls either. 

There are so many different things you can do! Do your nails, so many fun polishes and jamberry nail stickers are precious. Take a bubble bath or even just a shower. Read, there are free books out there or grab your Bible! Go shopping. Eat lunch with a friend. Call your momma and talk to her just because. Exercise. Make the recipe you've been too chicken to try out! Go get your hair done or get a massage. Fix up your backyard. Light your favorite candle. Anything. Just do it and don't feel bad. Even if it takes a few times or many to get where you don't feel the need to guilt yourself for taking care of you.

So my sweet friends, please take time for yourselves because the pay off will make you rich! 

Be you bravely

I promise realness.

Lately I've been feeling grumpy. At mothers. Mothers who complain about how mess filled their lives are and that they are imperfect so that others will play part to their ego party. I'm not talking about the imperfect mess moms who have little children and who work hard to get a load of laundry done and put up, and those who find goldfish crackers in the play kitchen. I mean the kool aid mom.

You know her. She's on your facebook feed or instagram, or at work constantly going on about how her house is messy. Her photos usually say "please excuse the mess", and there's no mess. There's no sign that a little one spit up on the carpet or played with legos. Or found make up and had a field day with it.

When did our lives have to become so picture perfect? When did we stop being genuine and feel the need to compete and worry about who does a Frozen party first? Have moms always been like this or did something snap within the day pinterest opened to the public?

When did it become trendy to be the imperfect mom? Maybe I'm judgey? I'm just tired of that mom. She isn't real. She isn't brave. She's there though, in me. In me when I'm scared to be me, bravely. 

So here is my promise. Of realness. Of me. My life where I have dogs that eat diapers, that I love chocolate and bourbon in peach tea, and my house is usually a mess. Laundry everywhere. Sometimes my girls match, it's fun! Then again don't be surprised if you visit unannounced and they're watching Blue's Clues wearing only diapers and grins. 

Cause I'd rather not be that mom.