Being a Mother

I have been thinking a lot about being a mother lately. Having a week away from my children was so nice in a way to let go of the constant go-go-go. But I missed them SO much. It gave me a lot of time to think. And as a stay-at-home mother, my mind was on the kind of mother I want to be and the kind of mother I actually am. And then at church yesterday, I had a complete meltdown. I have been doing Sundays by myself for 6 1/2 years. Jared leaves first thing in the morning and gets home around dinner time. I sit by myself with the kids and if one has to go out, we all go out because it is just me. Cole is really going through a tough time and struggles with sacrament meeting. Yesterday it was literally one minute after sitting down and he starting screaming and hitting me. So I grabbed my bag, took the kids out in the hall until the sacrament and went home in tears that pretty much didn't stop all afternoon. I had been holding things together for so long and just could not do it anymore. I felt like a failure. My older kids don't know how to be reverent because I cannot teach them while I am trying to keep Cole from pulling Elise's hair or crawling under the bench or yelling or coloring on the wall. I feel like I know what I want them to learn, but I have no clue how to even begin teaching them. Even though the "reverence-teaching" will have to come later, I have to remember that my kids know we go to church. They know we say our prayers at night and that we read scriptures. They know I love the Lord and hopefully know that I try and fail and try again. I wish I could see into the future just to know that they will learn something good. :)

I have always wanted to be a mother. As a young girl, I recognized and understood the joy that comes from serving, sacrificing and loving another. I wanted nothing more than to have a family and I had many visions of the kind of mother I would become. I imagined hours on end of playing, creating artwork and crafts together, reading stories, making bunnies out of their sandwich with carrots and olives, running through the sprinklers, making messes in the kitchen. And today I cringe inside as I watch Elise spill flour all over the floor or I read stories with the list of to-do's at the back of my mind or I barely find time to address the necessities of keeping them clothed, fed and alive. How will I ever fit in time for the kind of mother I thought I would be? I recognize that my view of motherhood was immature and did not include the demands of day-to-day life, but I become so disappointed in myself when I am so far from what I had hoped to be. There is a disconnect and I am not quite sure how to bridge that gap.

I am also beginning to recognize the different kind of "hard" that comes with parenting an older child. I feel helpless and so incompetent in teaching a child how to survive this world. Parenting a newborn (and in Cole's case a toddler) is hard in a physically exhausting way. There is not enough sleep and my tired body just wants to sit down for one minute. But then with Grey, I am trying to teach him why we need to make good choices when no one else around him does and how to treat others with love and respect. It is exhausting in such a different way than with a baby. And I am only at the beginning of his childhood. I constantly find myself second guessing myself and recognizing mistakes that I have already made in raising him and not knowing how to fix it.

I don't want to come across as complaining because even with--no because--of the difficulties, there is no other life I would choose than the one I have today. I know that there is no growth or learning without struggles. My children have taught me how to be selfless and how to sacrifice. They have taught me how to prioritize the things that really matter. They teach me every day how to be teachable and willing to learn. I have understood as closely as my finite mind is able what a true Christ-like love is. I love them even when they hurt me and I will love them forever no matter what they are or who they become. And when I watch them learn something new or tuck them in at night, I feel an indescribable joy that cannot be matched anywhere else in this world. The difficulties and the kind of mother I am have surprised me, but the joy and love has surprised me in an entirely different way. For that I will be forever grateful. There is no place I would rather be than with my family. They complete my soul in a way that I never imagined. It is like our little family has become a puzzle and just isn't complete without every single one of their unique personalities.

I am working on being okay with myself as a mother through times of very imperfect mothering. We are so hard on ourselves as mothers and get caught up in the things we don't do or the things we wish we did better. I think it is beneficial to re-evaluate every so often to find places for improvement. But we should be focusing on the things we do--not even do well, but do at all. Even if it is not up to our imaginative expectations or pinterest expectations. Now to figure out how to handle Sundays....