This morning I drove kids to school….twice. I had honked, and I had waited…and honked and waited some more. With two kids upset (one to tears) in the car that he was making them late, I chose to pull away, leaving the straggler in the house – the 15 year old – the power struggling child of the moment (it’s never just one). I knew his wrath was coming…and I secretly hoped he would find a ride with a neighbour….
No such luck.
I pulled back into the driveway 8 minutes later and he came storming out to the car with lecturing words on how his sister over-reacted and I was terrible to have left him. I was going to be silent, but then found myself using a similar tone trying to explain how our family bus leaves at 8:05 and it’s unfair to expect everyone to wait when he was given plenty of warning and could have used his time more wisely (AND how lucky he was that I came back to get him). I could hardly get a word in. Back and forth we went. It was exhausting. I’m sure people passing could see it all. He pelted me with his position and wasn’t budging, but neither was I. I stepped on the brakes a little harder than usual to drop him off. Then our goodbyes were a door slam and me sarcastically yelling “Have a GREAT day!” He stomped into the seminary building…with a spirit of contention that both of us caused. I was mad. And even more mad that he was a reflection of my own strong will. I let out an audible, exasperated sigh as I drove away, categorizing this experience in my less-than-pleasant-mothering-experience file.
As I drove home, feeling angry and frustrated, I wondered how I could be a better mother in teaching my children about courtesy and give and take and repentance and forgiveness. And humility. Being teachable. Oh that. Why doesn’t that one ever seem to sink in…for me OR him. I thought I had been teaching it, however, the application felt distant. But then I also remembered that in our rush we had forgotten to have family prayer. “Maybe that would have helped.” I thought. Suddenly, all the guilt piled on that I just can’t seem to get my act together, and I don’t practice what I preach, and if I had got up earlier myself, maybe our morning would have gone smoother and… and… and…(you know how it goes).
My thoughts were racing. And I realized I have never been able to get my act together. I’ve always felt guilty. And I’m tired. Life is just hard sometimes. Being a mom is awesome…and hard.
So. I am a mom, still navigating my journey and in the thick of it. And my kids are big. My daughter is almost 21 and married, and my 19 year old son is serving a mission in Colorado. And then there are the three at home ages 15, 13 and 10.
Being a mom isn’t easy. As I drove home this morning feeling heavy with guilt, I passed my old green house on the corner. The one my husband and I built together in 2001 – when life was hard then too. I installed the insulation in that house with toddlers at my feet, racing back to vacuum halls at the apartment buildings we managed. I remember it was difficult to leave that house after only 6 months when my husband decided to go back to school. It was my very first REAL home, I reminisced. Breaking my thoughts, I saw a mom there, getting out of her car in the driveway, and I watched her carry her baby in a carseat into the house. I observed her, and was reminded that I was that mom once too. The carseat carrying mom. The fishy crackers on the floor of my van mom. And I imagined our little family during that stage in all its details. The dishes and the pee laundry, the night feedings and the chicken pox, stomach flu, tantrums and mischievous messes. Lego and unloaded cupboards and diapers, diapers, diapers. I thought I would never survive.
I was told to “enjoy it while they’re young” and “this too shall pass” and “little people, little problems”, but I didn’t believe them.
Now I do. It does pass. And it is enjoyable….most days….and the problems are solvable….with love.
But I am also reminded of all the joy I have felt in the past 21 years of being a mom. That over-reaching feeling that is just a little higher than happy and that keeps you moving through the challenging times. The moments my heart would burst with love for my child when they would say or do something amazing – even if yesterday they had dropped an entire jug of milk that cracked open and ran under the freezer. The times I have watched them sleep and thought, “Wow. My little baby is really growing up” – even if I had already been up with them 3 times that night. The late night talks and hugs and tears and hearing “Love you, mom!” or “Thanks for dinner, mom!” when I least expected it. Watching them excel in their sports and music and activities, and when they’d burst in the door to show me their report card or the prize they won at school. The school plays and the snowman building overshadowed the late night costume preparation or the snowy, wet boots. The “Hey Mom, I’m going to Jonah’s to go metal detecting!” and then coming home with a giant, rusty tow truck hook that we had to find a place for next to the moose antler under his bed. The “tink” of the baseball bat when he finally hit the ball and the ear to ear smiles when he made it round the bases to home – even if it took us 30 minutes to find his baseball pants.
Folding their laundry and wondering how their socks got so big…and why there is only one. Listening to them respond to a job offer on the phone and thinking “Wow. He really IS an adult.” Coming home to a clean kitchen and hearing “Mom, can I have some friends over?” and feeling grateful that they are learning the value of work before play. The Facetime chats and the texts of words that are more easily typed than said. The hug of my beautiful daughter in her puffy white wedding dress and the goodbye of a missionary son. If the last 21 years were a movie, it would play out like one of those feel good shows where problems are solved and people are loved “even though”. Ups and downs, and I guess I’m okay. And they are too. We’re doing it and we’re getting through. It’s all good.
As I pulled back into the driveway for the second time this morning, after the mere three minute drive back home and all these thoughts, I concluded with a reminder: I AM a good mom. We are ALL good moms. Just muddling through, doing the best we can and loving our babies in the best way we know how. We lug carseats and though our backs ache, and we still feel joy because they are ours and our children are precious to us. We do it all for love.
And we argue with our teenagers, and yes, still feel joy, because we know their strong-willed personality will serve them well in life to make big decisions, to lead out, and to do hard things.
The guilt is needless. And these moments are just that…moments. Snippets in the grand scheme of our lives…and theirs. The diapers and night feedings eventually stop and children mature and grow into humans we shaped.
As a mom, I get to experience many moments right beside them. And whether it be a joyful moment, a teaching moment, or a “let’s just get through it” moment, I am reminded that being the mom is still the best job in the world. Change is inevitable and phases come and go, and one day in the future I’ll watch a mother through a car window argue with her 15 year old son and say to myself, “I’ve been there, and I remember.” And then I’ll pull into my driveway just in time to babysit my grand-baby and watch my daughter through the window lug a carseat in from the car and remember…I was there once too. And I will help her and reassure her that she’s okay.
So to all the moms: You are great. You are more amazing than you know. You hang in there. And I will too. Let’s bloom where we are planted and enjoy every stage for what it is.
“Life is like an old-time rail journey—delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts,
interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed.
The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride.”
—Jenkin Lloyd Jones
Joy In The Journey
It is morning again
A brand new day
And it begins much like yesterday
Is my glass half full or does it seem empty
I guess it depends.
Each day runs into another
Time flies so fast I lose track
But there’s another perspective
If I just step back
And find joy in the journey
Thrills along the way
Every moment a blessing
Each day better than yesterday
Even through stops and sidetracks
On this one-way train of life
My heart remains ever thankful
That I was allowed the ride.
Time never stands still
There’s always change
Sometimes it’s a breath of fresh air
Or maybe the twists and turns of this road leave your
Head in a spin
But if each new day holds a promise
That there will not be one regret
Doubts and fears of the future
You can just forget
Repeat chorus
My heart remains ever thankful
That I was allowed the ride.
Copyright © by Sara Lyn Baril. All rights reserved.
4 thoughts on “FOR MOMS: Bloom Where You’re Planted”