Yesterday was one of the really exhausting days. The craziness of getting 5 people out the door and to our 3 respective locations by 7:30am is no small task. Doing this 5 days a week takes craziness to a whole new level. Oh, how I wish I was a morning person!
Had I looked ahead at the weather, I would have dressed more appropriately than 5'3" in flats and dress pants with the hem dragging on the wet, rainy ground. But alas, it was a soggy start to my long day. Teaching 23 chatty, active, and outgoing kindergarteners was actually the easiest part of my day. I love it and it doesn't seem like work at all. And I certainly don't take the opportunity for granted.
8 hours later, school ended and I stayed for a meeting that also enjoyably flew by and felt more like a date with friends. My phone buzzed alerting me I now needed to pick up my son from high school in addition to my daughter from her after-school practice. Hating to leave the meeting, I packed up myself and my kindergartner and trekked back outside onto the soggy ground to rush to get my two oldest kids. I was driving the hubby's truck since our old van has decided to no longer age gracefully. Did I mention I hate driving his big truck? I do. With 3 kids now in the truck, I headed to daycare to pick up the fourth and final peep.
Since nothing ever goes quicker than expected for a messy mama, I was now running late enough I had to drag my entourage along with me to my meeting with my college professor. Yes, I'm still trying to figure out a way to return to college and finish what I started before marriage, babies, and the progression of mamahood. Dreams don't die. We just suppress them as life twists and pulls for our attention.
The big truck is not an easy beast to park on the street of downtown Hagerstown, so after 2 laps around the square, I pulled into an open spot and managed to scrounge up a dime and several nickels to buy me 25 minutes of parking. My teenager decided to stay in the truck hooked up to music. So mama and the 3 girls head for the meeting. My youngest managed to fall out of the truck and land in a puddle along the street. No time to stop and assess the damage, so she and I both walked with a squish to our steps.
Arriving at college and checking in with Security while your peeps parade behind you must be a bonus jewel in that heavenly crown. Don't ya think? Smh. They stayed in the lobby while I took the elevator up to finally meet with the professor. The same professor from the fall who worked so hard to get me into college and the perfect classes. The same professor I had to contact to inform him that life was just too big to squeeze college into last fall. But I'm going to try again.
He was so very gracious and helpful and in a matter of 15 minutes I had my college course options laid out for me for the spring semester. We parted ways and I rushed downstairs to collect my posse of children. Hurrying to get coats on and rush out the door since the parking meter would soon be flashing "loser" in bright red, I was stopped by the Security guard asking me to sign out of the building. As I did so, he smiled with a tenderness to his eyes and let me know how well behaved my children were. I smiled and thanked him (before I could confirm he had me confused with another mama) and we all headed out to the wet sidewalk leading to the big truck.
We drove home with a quick stop at the store for ingredients to make spaghetti for dinner. Who says MeatlessMonday has to be on Monday? In under 40 minutes, we were home and everyone was sitting down for a hot meal. The first non-fastfood meal of the week. Don't judge. I promise I judge myself harder than you ever could. Lesson plans, homework, baths, and bed. Oh, and a quick trip to the other end of the county to pick up a vehicle I could drive until our geriatric van will be drivable again.
Finally at 10:45pm I lay my head down and set my alarm for 5:30am, because I don't know what the next day is going to require, but I know the adventure awaits and messy mama will find a way to keep her head above the water (but probably not the hem of her pants).
Thursday, December 1, 2016
Sunday, May 8, 2016
Not the Same Mama
We are not the same mama every Mother's Day. Time, life, seasons, and growth take us to new places over the course of the 364 days in between. Much like the rolling reel of a film, change continuously propels us forward to it's own rhythm.
This morning, I awoke to 4 children: 2 of my own and 2 of another mama. That privilege is not lost on me. Each child holds a special piece of my heart, whether they were birthed or borrowed. That's the beautiful thing about being a mama. Mama's are made in the heart.
While my heart is bursting at the seams with 4 precious blessings looking to me to be their mama, I wonder what being their mama looks like to them this year. So much of life has changed for me in the last 364 days. How has that impacted being a mama to these blessings?
Being a mama often comes under scrutiny. By ourselves, by our friends, by our family, and by our society. Women often find ourselves passionate and opinionated when it comes to mamahood. Which many times leaves us holding up the measuring stick to ourselves and others trying to navigate this journey. Ironically, very rarely do our children try to measure us up short.
Mothering another mama's children has to be one of the most vulnerable opportunities I can think of. No one could mother my own children the same way I do, so how could I possibly think my style would be embraced by one who'd much rather have her children in her home than in mine?
Opening your home to children that are not yours also opens you up to judgment as to mothering evenly. How much time do you invest on your own children vs how much time do you invest on the children entrusted to your care for a season? Who determines quantity and quality of what you give?
Stay at home mamas vs. work-outside-the-home mamas. I've been both in the last year. Both have changed me and both have changed my children. Which mama do my children need?
I'd say often too much of my identity is wrapped up in being a mama. And I know that because if someone wants to wound me deeply, all they need to do is question, criticize, or tear down my abilities as a mama. I come completely undone and swim in guilt and self-condemnation.
So as life has changed for me, I wonder how much of me has changed as a mama to my children. I'm tired, cranky, stressed out, forgetful, behind on the house and laundry, and not available as often for them. I worry about having to say goodbye to our 2 borrowed blessings. I worry about being less than for my own flesh and blood. I've lost the margin of time to take care of myself. Time and energy seem to be the unattainable dream.
I'm not the same mama this year as I was last year. Life's rhythm has propelled me forward to scary and lonely places. My plate overflows while my heart desires that my cup runneth over as the best mama I can be. I can't be both busy and best. Or can I?
Maybe the messy mama I am this year is still ok. Afterall, if Mama's are made in the heart, my heart surely hasn't changed for my loves. 364 more days to love on and press on for those I would walk through fire for. For those I would die fighting for. For those I know have been gifted to me.
At the end of every day, when my head hits the pillow and sleep comes so quickly, this mama reminds herself that all I survived this day and all that awaits me tomorrow is working together to mold me into the mama God is giving my children; not perfect, but present. They don't measure me up short. Even a tired and cranky mama is beautiful in the eyes and heart of a child.
This morning, I awoke to 4 children: 2 of my own and 2 of another mama. That privilege is not lost on me. Each child holds a special piece of my heart, whether they were birthed or borrowed. That's the beautiful thing about being a mama. Mama's are made in the heart.
While my heart is bursting at the seams with 4 precious blessings looking to me to be their mama, I wonder what being their mama looks like to them this year. So much of life has changed for me in the last 364 days. How has that impacted being a mama to these blessings?
Being a mama often comes under scrutiny. By ourselves, by our friends, by our family, and by our society. Women often find ourselves passionate and opinionated when it comes to mamahood. Which many times leaves us holding up the measuring stick to ourselves and others trying to navigate this journey. Ironically, very rarely do our children try to measure us up short.
Mothering another mama's children has to be one of the most vulnerable opportunities I can think of. No one could mother my own children the same way I do, so how could I possibly think my style would be embraced by one who'd much rather have her children in her home than in mine?
Opening your home to children that are not yours also opens you up to judgment as to mothering evenly. How much time do you invest on your own children vs how much time do you invest on the children entrusted to your care for a season? Who determines quantity and quality of what you give?
Stay at home mamas vs. work-outside-the-home mamas. I've been both in the last year. Both have changed me and both have changed my children. Which mama do my children need?
I'd say often too much of my identity is wrapped up in being a mama. And I know that because if someone wants to wound me deeply, all they need to do is question, criticize, or tear down my abilities as a mama. I come completely undone and swim in guilt and self-condemnation.
So as life has changed for me, I wonder how much of me has changed as a mama to my children. I'm tired, cranky, stressed out, forgetful, behind on the house and laundry, and not available as often for them. I worry about having to say goodbye to our 2 borrowed blessings. I worry about being less than for my own flesh and blood. I've lost the margin of time to take care of myself. Time and energy seem to be the unattainable dream.
I'm not the same mama this year as I was last year. Life's rhythm has propelled me forward to scary and lonely places. My plate overflows while my heart desires that my cup runneth over as the best mama I can be. I can't be both busy and best. Or can I?
Maybe the messy mama I am this year is still ok. Afterall, if Mama's are made in the heart, my heart surely hasn't changed for my loves. 364 more days to love on and press on for those I would walk through fire for. For those I would die fighting for. For those I know have been gifted to me.
At the end of every day, when my head hits the pillow and sleep comes so quickly, this mama reminds herself that all I survived this day and all that awaits me tomorrow is working together to mold me into the mama God is giving my children; not perfect, but present. They don't measure me up short. Even a tired and cranky mama is beautiful in the eyes and heart of a child.
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
"UP"---Love Leaks Out
Fun, excitement, imagination, adventure, innocence, and sweet love. Not to mention their adorable faces! I've always been a romantic.
Yet, lately, this image of "UP" has been pressing in on my spirit:
The reality is that foster care is exactly what this image in "UP" depicts. Opening your home to a child(ren) and filling up their empty places with Jesus, love, security, care, safety, routines, and the chance to cope with the traumas they've experienced in their short years. Foster parents tether these children to all that is right and good while knowing it may be required to launch them up and away and relocate from your home to a land not flowing with milk and honey.
It's subtle, yet I can feel it all the same. Short bursts of air leaving my mama heart in the every day happenings; reminding me time is short and precious. The very early stages of launching our sweet foster siblings into the reunification process have begun. Quite possibly, this summer will come to a close by moving these two little sisters back into an apartment with their mother and her village. My heart hurts because I know what this means for them.
We have been filling up these girls for close to a year now. Attachment is a very raw part of life. Necessary, natural, and painful all the same. My heart knows Jesus is the Only One anchoring us and Only His plans will prevail.......
For now, I watch, I love, I trust, and I pray. Every day I allow a little bit of Mama-love to leak out and UP as I fill these precious girls with enough Jesus to last a lifetime.
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