Being a Mom

Oh my goodness. So, I've decided that being a mom is hard.

Yes, it's physically draining. The lack of sleep combined with the daily monotonous tasks of lugging fifty-pound car seats around, cleaning up yet another dirty face (or diaper, or dish, or pile of toys...), and completing the sacred rituals required for finally putting your children to bed at the end of a looong day can feel like it's slowly sucking the life out of you. Can I get an 'amen' on that?

But it's the mental gymnastics that really wear a person out. There's just so much to worry about. Are they still breathing? Will this plastic give them cancer? Should I take them to the doctor for this? Why don't my children ever want to eat? (unless it's the middle of the night, of course) Should I vaccinate them? Am I disciplining enough? Am I disciplining too much? Am I disciplining correctly? Am I showing my girls how to respect and love their husbands? Am I showing them the truth and power of the gospel? And what kind of world are they going to have to survive in twenty years from now?

I know it's wrong to worry and that I'll destroy myself and everything around me if I try to control it all. That's not my job. I know it means that I'm not trusting God. Not to mention that it's pointless. So I remind myself again that these are God's children. He's in control, so I can relax and enjoy them.

But then things happen. Such as...Poppy shattering a glass of smoothie all over the counter and my laptop a couple of days ago. I was not relaxed about this, nor did I enjoy her at this moment. No, I was very annoyed. And I had to apologize to her later for not being more patient. She graciously forgave me and then asked, "You need to be happy even when I break things?" Yes. I do. Kids can be so convicting.

OK, but that's not the story. Last night, I looked over and saw that Cetty had blood dribbling down her chin. I jumped up and started searching for where she might have hurt herself. It didn't look like anything was wrong. It must be coming from inside her mouth, I thought. Then I noticed that she was chewing on something. That's when I reached in and pulled out a sizable shard of razor sharp glass. What in the world?! I somehow missed this after sweeping twice. I mean come on, I even mopped yesterday (a very rare occurence). What would have happened if she had swallowed it?

So, I guess the moral of this little story is that there is nothing I can do to keep my kids completely and entirely safe. Not even inside my own home. In fact, this shouldn't even be the goal, because life isn't about being safe.

This, to me, is the hardest part of being a mom. It's the part where you have to surrender it all to God, and I'm finding out that I'm not always so good at that.