To the mom that overthinks everything...

Welp, it's mid-January in Ohio again and this is the time of year I nearly crawl out of my skin in anticipation of all that could be but isn't because it's cold and dark and dreary and Spring is still 2 months away.  

Saying I've been unpleasant is probably the highest of understatements and Brian may be spotted living on the corner of our roof soon (Check out Proverbs if you don't get it).

After a few tearful days of bemoaning all about my life, I sat myself down this morning with my cup of coffee and took myself back to 1989.  Well, not literally.  But in my mind I tried to go back to some of my youngest memories and recreate the best ones.

Sometimes growing up means going back.

Yes, I'm 31, but some days I need to grow up more than I know.  Having 3 little kids that can't pour their own milk or wipe their own butts will shine a light at your most selfish desires and disclose any lack of servanthood that you have.

So at 7 am today I thought about what my goal is for the next 15-18 years I have kids around (or maybe more, who knows) and the thing that came to my mind was this statement:

Motherhood is not about dazzling my kids, it is about discipling my kids.

Oh friends, in an effort to make myself feel good and make my kids feel good, I’ve gotten into a bad streak of happy kids, happy life.  And you know, that is so far from the truth.  The world doesn’t need 3 more catered-to, self-centered, “I’m entitled to this” brats, it needs 3 more compassionate, loving, and Christ-following kids.  My role as a mother is not to protect them from every illness and heartache and GMO No. 5 food coloring item in the world (although I may trrryyy), my role is to point them to God, point them to common sense, and point them to, uh, delayed gratification!   The thing is, I may blame it on the kids, but it is MY heart.  I have the standard.  I have the expectations.

So I made a really silly list of things I enjoyed most from my childhood.  I spent a whole 2.5 minutes on this, (so mom, don’t start overanalyzing, thankyouverymuch #igottthathonest).

1. Being silly on vacations with Paul and Mom and Dad (sorry Phil, I don’t remember you much, old man).
2. getting out Christmas decor
3. being able to walk/bike to both Grandma’s houses and all the memories that created
4. singing
5. doing errands/work with dad (I was a pretty sweet mail-sorter and mat wiper at age 7 haha)
6. eating cookie dough  (and it brings me so much JOY to this day!)

Ok so now you are reading this and thinking, “This lady is LAME-O.”

Here is my point-

KIDS DON’T NEED MUCH!

NOTHING THERE IS ROCKET SCIENCE.

In fact, most of those my kids do on a regular basis.  (minus the grandparent thing, not sure if that will ever happen).

If my best memories were created out of everyday life, WHY MOMS, DO WE FEEL THE NEED TO PUSH THE PINTEREST LIFESTYLE?

Why do we feel guilty when we hire a babysitter or SEND THEM TO GRANDMAS?

Why do we try to make fancy meals when all they want is COOKIE DOUGH???  (You don’t know me if you get salmonella, just saying).

And then, my next thought, Mothers.

WHY DO WE EXPECT THIS OF EACH OTHER?

I’m shouting at you now.

Let’s stop it, Mommas.

Let’s put the TV on for 20 minutes and enjoy a cup of tea.  No one will die.

Let’s take them to grandmas and go on a hot date. (I mean, my dad once fed Jackson (age 2) chocolate pudding for dinner- so you know they want to be there!!)

Let’s sing.

And let’s stop stressing.

Let’s focus on discipling and disciplining and loving, and let’s move on.  

My kids are my life, but they are NOT my Life.  Does that make sense?

I will do all I can to provide and nourish and love them, but soon they will be GONE.

In some ways, they are like the sparrow of the field- they are just on loan.

We have time to mold them and make them.

And I want to enjoy them.

That doesn’t mean I won’t ever wash their mouths out with soap (sometimes Pa Teddy should come wash my mouth out with soap thanksfortryingtokillme with the pump Dial, Ted!!)

I finished my quiet time by writing this down:

Proverbs 14:1

“The wise woman builds her house, but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down.”

I’m thankful for parents who loved me, yet let me fly.  And let me learn the hard lesson sometimes!

Grace, mamas.  Build your house and love well.  Then let it go.

xo

Leah