Fear

I was afraid to go to the grocery store. 

Yes, I'm the girl that at 16 years of age boarded a plane to go halfway around the world and live with complete strangers for 12 months.

Yes, the girl who got up on stage at college and in front of the media and her peers, argued with local news personalities about national political issues.

Yes, the girl who got on a different plane and flew to England, hauled a suitcase through the London Tube and took a taxi to a hospital I'd never been to, all in an effort to get to my ailing mother.

But I was absolutely terrified to drive 2 miles and walk inside of a Kroger.

Why?

The possibility of a crazed ex-employee shooting me and my fellow "Manager-Special-seeking-friends" up?
No.

Poisoning my family with e-coli from a bag of salad mix?
No.

Well then, why?

Because I had to get three kids into the store, shop for an hour, then get them all loaded in the car with the groceries and come back home?

DING DING DING

It seems so petty. Almost humorous.

But the reality is, it was crippling.  And it wasn't just the grocery store, there were playdates at the mall, trips to the park, anything where I would be forced to herd my little family in and out of the Dodge Caravan and into the dawn of civilization. First I could use the weather as an excuse-the temperature was to the point of "my windows have frost on the INSIDE," so I convinced myself that maybe I would never have to leave my house.  I could hole-up in my PJ pants and Ugg boots while dining on Texas Roadhouse take-out and PB&J sandwiches.  (That WOULD be the life, ladies, wouldn't it?). As the months wore on though, I thought Alanis Morissette was going to move into my living room and start singing "Uninvited" to me, because surely no one was ever going to invite the scaredy cat to join them in public again.

I knew that many women had faced the reality of getting 3 kids around, maybe even three children under 4.  However, I told myself that they had not met the sassy, wild heart of Jackson I. Yoder nor the dynamic duo created when paired with the high-pitched screams of Olen T.  I could survive, but it was unlikely.

Eventually one kind Monday we had no food in the house.  Unless it was black beans and spaghetti noodles for dinner (Dave Ramsey approved!), I was going to have to take all three kids out.

You know what?  It was fine.  I prepared them with a little pep talk (ok, not C, she is a little oblivious to pep talks thankyouerymuch3amscreams) and we ended the trip with a bag of Krispy Kreme crullers (Everybody wins!).

Why am I sharing this?

Ladies, self-talk is joy-ending misery.
Bad. No bueno.  Mucho crappy. ;)

And when you add the hormonal changes of pregnancy and birth and the adding another baby into the mix, it can be downright TORTURE.

If you are the #1 guilt-free Mother of the World PLEASE STOP READING.  The words you will find below are only for us I'M-LOSING-SLEEP-OVER-EVERYTHING-I-DO crowd.

It usually goes something like this:
My baby doesn't sleep through the night.
Why doesn't my baby sleep through the night?  Xyz girl on facebook whose baby is 3 months old is already sleeping 10 hrs a night.  GRRRRR.
What am I doing wrong?
I didn't give her cereal before bed.  I really suck at remembering that.  Will do that tomorrow night to see if it helps.
Why is my 4 yr old so crazy?  Maybe I'm not disciplining enough.  Maybe he feels unloved.  I did yell at him yesterday.
Ohmygosh look at my thighs.  They are huge. I need to lay off the Junior Mint ice cream (that Jesus invented I'm sure).  I better work out tomorrow.  Oh, I missed another work out.  I'm so lazy.  Maybe I should have figured out a way to get to the Y even though the baby was fussy all morning.
My house is always trashed.  When I went to (insert name)'s house the other day, her house was clean.  She must be a better mom than me because her kids are better behaved and her house is clean.  And she is a size 6.  Shoot me now....

And this is why there is book titled "Women are like Spaghetti..."
It all runs together.
One big bowl of self-hate.

Maybe you haven't struggled with this.  I think all of us women lack confidence at one point or another, but it seems like motherhood put an amplification on EVERYTHING.  Every emotion.  Every hormone.  Every struggle.

So where do we go, ladies?

I go to my faith.

At our wedding we had a reading from 1 John 4.  It says that there is no fear in love but perfect love casts out fear.  What does this mean?  That which was perfect (Jesus), died for me, and because I have salvation through him ALONE, I really have nothing to fear.  Nothing can separate us from the love of God.

But even further, God is sovereign.  I can stress about the day-to-day mundane, but God is in control.  I can do everything right as a parent and I will not have a "perfect" child.  There have also been honorable, loving children raised by complete creeps.  Ha!  God knows our family story.  I can do my best raising my children to the best of my ability and then I have to let go.  And rest.  Rest in his peace.  And hopefully rest for 8 hours a night. #pleasesoon

Has anyone else struggled with guilt?  Fear of Krogering with kids?  Fear of leaving house?  Fear of  the Junior Mint ice cream being discontinued?
xxoo
Leah