What happened?
There are days when the temp is high and humid and I look around at life and I just want to whisper to someone what happened? How did this become my life? Is this really motherhood? Because if it is then I’m not the mom I thought I would be. I want to put my head in their arms and wonder and let the tired tears tumble from my eyes.
But I shove them in.
I push them back under the lids and try to hope the mascara that I put on at 8:34 in the morning doesn’t run and then realize that there’s really not any left.
It feels like my heart somedays.
Empty. Wondering about my worth in this crazy world called life.
I give to my kids always. I know you do. I mean, we’re moms. We give.
I think motherhood is this ambiguous place of not knowing.
We don’t know if we’re doing a good job. We don’t know if this is the right decision. We don’t know. We just don’t know if it matters. We don’t know if we should be feeling this way. We don’t know if what we did today makes a difference in tomorrow.
It all matters.
We love our kids. We’d fight for our kids. And yet we play this game with ourselves day after day. It’s this game of doubt and comparing. Somehow we push ourselves through life and push the cart in Target and we feel alone. We think we’re the only mom who has had enough or who has to work or who has to stay at home. We think that we’re alone in our feelings of worth or wonder if the other moms ever have doubts about motherhood.
We look at our kids and sometimes don’t see the awesome that we’ve done with them but only the flaws at the moment. We look at how they stand in the Target line and wish they’d be still or worry that they can’t form that a yet and wonder if they’ll get into college. We live in a cycle of hoping to win at some stuff and yet seemingly still coming up in second.
We’re the ones giving ourselves the silver medal of motherhood, you know.
There’s no judge at the end of the motherhood telling us well, you really messed up when he was seven and therefore, well you get second. Honestly. Even though oftentimes it feels like we’ll never cross that finish line.
I know, you could probably list me a litany of things that you messed up today doing. Me too. I could tell you about our late lunch, the laundry still not started, the fact that I got really irritated when they interrupted my phone call and on and on and on. I could tell you about the slow starts and fails and moments where I think I’d be disqualified.
But listing the hypothetical fails leaves us stuck.
Stuck.
Finding joy in life and motherhood means that we aren’t going to be stuck.
And I mean you, right now. I believe in you.
I know, I don’t know you, but that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t because the truth is that in my heart of hearts I feel like it’s my spot in this world to be the person to wipe away those I don’t matter much tears and replace them with some you are so freaking awesome truth. So listen. Please, I need you for a blip in this speed race of life and expectations to stop for a second and just let go of expectations and to-do lists and matter moments and weights of things to do. For just a moment. You can pick up all those motherhood weights in a bit.
Listen.
I’m not giving up on you.
People didn’t give up on me. They saw me think I was a mess. They saw me thinking that I couldn’t do it. They saw me doubting my awesome. They saw me. And they fought for me. They showed me the truth and why those doubts weren’t right. Or true. So I am fighting for you. No matter where you are in your story. Because part of being a human and loving another is reaching out to others when they feel small. Like they mess up. Are failing.
So let’s just cut to the chase.
You’re not failing. Not one bit. You may stumble or trip or have bad days in motherhood. We all do. Every single one of us. All of us. And those bad days as much as we’d like to stick labels on us letting them define us they simply don’t. They don’t have any bearing on you right now. Bad days don’t equal not finishing. Or getting second.
Because in the race of your motherhood journey you are the perfect mom for your kids. Yes, you, the one who if you were like me today has moments where you’re like whoa whoa whoa I’m totally done here.
So learn from them. Pick out something to learn.
And move on.
But more than that, more than that look at what you’ve done. All of it.
All of the mornings rocking babies when you are bone tired. All of the times you’ve buckled them in and fixed the seat belt. All of the times when you’ve negotiated who had more or whose turn it was and all of it and you really didn’t care. All of the meals made. Covers pulled up. Prayers lifted. Times where you didn’t give up.
Because do you hear me? You didn’t give up.
You didn’t quit. You’re still running. You may be tired, but you’re going.
You didn’t give up.
You simply didn’t.
And today, tonight, whenever we’re reading this we’re going to celebrate that.
I am so proud of you.
Maybe you’ve never heard that before, but honestly, I think that might be my role in life during this season to say it. Because the number of moms that email me telling me they feel alone or that they don’t make a difference or that they are failing is through the roof. So I say enough to all of that and instead want to grab you all by the arm and pick you up and tell you that you are not alone.
You are not alone.
It is one step, one day, one more try.
This is your story. Oh my friends, it might be messy and the most not what you thought it would be, but even in the crazy is this absolutely extraordinary in the ordinary.
Life wasn’t meant to be on the screen of perfection.
Life is where you are now. In the trenches. Racing forward. One step, one day, one try, one meal, one hug, one stumble, one stand up after another.
Being you.
You can do this. Second doesn’t exist here.
Just finishing.
~Rachel
ps. who can you be the cheerleader for today? my challenge is to be that friend too.
#findingjoy
#yougetagold
10 comments
Thank you!! You speak the words we do desperately need to hear. That someone believes in us. That we matter because we put our kids first. That it all matters.
Thank you.
Thank you. You are a blessing to this mom. Your words reached my core tonight, goose bumps. I heard and received your words of encouragement. Thank you. I believe you have a strong calling on your life. Your message is always on point, your love and compassion is always felt and your championing is greatly appreciated and needed. Ps. I love Target too and feel even more connected with you when you make Target /Starbucks references. (Heehee)
May God continue to bless EVERYTHING you put your hand to.
You are so precious and beautiful.
Your sister in Christ,
Carrey mother of 2
Thank you. You are a blessing to this mom. Your words reached my core tonight, goose bumps. I heard and received your words of encouragement. Thank you. I believe you have a strong calling on your life. Your message is always on point, your love and compassion is always felt and your championing is greatly appreciated and needed. Ps. I love Target too and feel even more connected with you when you make Target /Starbucks references. (Heehee)
May God continue to bless EVERYTHING you put your hand to.
You are so precious and beautiful.
Rachel, thank you for always inspiring me to keep going. Thank you for always reminding me to never give-up and that I maybe fallible, but I am enough. Just to know that this blog existed makes me motivated every day to embrace motherhood. Please keep on writing and God Bless you and your family.
I don’t even really know what to say but thank you. I feel this way so many times… Like I don’t even deserve the silver medal. Maybe I’m not even good enough for the bronze?
I have a special-needs son and I stay home with him to do what I can to help him with his therapies and to let him know his mommy and daddy love him more than he will ever know. But in my not-so-strong moments, I wonder if my frustration and anger when he whines, screams, or pours water all over the floor for the umpteenth time today, is hurting his spirit. Would he have been better off with another mommy that has more patience?
I want to be as good as my friends and family think I am. But they don’t see me when I lose my temper, or when I say to my husband, “I’m done and need a break NOW!”
But if I take too many breaks, will my son think I don’t love him? If I play on my phone too much (to escape for a while) will he think I don’t want to be around him?
But… Who will lay in his bed tent with him? Who will pause his video so he can label all of the foods, and listen to him and understand when he’s quoting his favorite parts? Who will take him to the museum just to play at the Lego table for hours on end when we have Legos at home?
I may not be perfect… but I need to remember, I know my son better than anyone else, and I can love him like no one else can. 🙂
Who is cutting onions in here? You got me Rachel. You got me goooood girl. The tears started flowing when you said…” All of the times you’ve buckled them in and fixed the seat belt.”. That is me. I am the car seat nazi and I get a lot of eye rolling and sighs from people because I make them wait while I untwist straps etc but you know what. I give a damn…and I am enough…and I AM the best mother for my son and it took reading this very post to crack me open and see that I am a bad ass mom. Thank you Rachel. Thank you to the moon and back and around the block.
I love your writing. You share the honest, sometimes heart-aching daily trials and joys that come with being a mom. I have read several of your posts so far and I feel as if the words could have come directly from my own heart. I have a sister-in-law who greatly struggles with depression and is the mom of a 1 year old with cerebral palsy. I just shared your site with her knowing that your uplifting posts will be a blessing to her as she struggles to be a mom with a mental illness and caring for a child with a disability. We all struggle each day…doing our best to be the best to our families. Perfection is the unattainable goal that seems to knock us off our feet. It’s so refreshing to read your posts and know, that despite appearances, no one is perfect- but we are all perfect for our own children. Keep on writing!!!!
I really needed to hear this today. xoxo Shana
Thank you so much for this. I started with your article about those horrible days as mothers…and kept reading more.
It is so needed…that appreciation of mothers, mothers uniting, admitting fault, accepting flaws, acknowledging imperfection. I have those horrible days where I don’t even feel like I’m worth the silver. Days where I want to scream and feel ungrateful for the blessing of motherhood. You see, my first child passed 7 1/2 hours after birth. I pleaded for another child, bargained, begged. Six painful years and a divorce later, my second son was born. I always felt after losing one I would appreciate the next so much that I would be immune to those horrible days. Nope, not so much. They still happen…the days where I’m not enough and I just give up. Then the guilt sets in and now it’s just too much. Hearing your words, that I’m the best for my child, I don’t have to be perfect, I’m not alone…those words comfort. Those are things we all need to hear. It helps to lessen the guilt. ( though I don’t think it ever goes away because motherhood is guilt with a side of love.) Thank you.