Get a Grip! Loosen Your Grip on Motherhood
“Do you get bored with the work?” my son asked as I bustled
around the kitchen, trying to get the kids through supper.
“What do you mean?” I responded. “Are you wondering if
people ever get bored at their jobs?”
“You—do you ever
get bored with all the work you do?” He waved his hands around the chaotic
kitchen.
Hey, at least my five-year-old recognizes that momming is a
full-time job. And here he was, pondering whether I get bored ploughing through
all the tasks that mothering four young kids entails.
“Honestly, I’m too busy to get bored. Some parts of being a
mom do seem repetitive or menial. But caring for you kids is never
boring.”
He had just asked for a second helping of watermelon, but I
was caught up pouring milk, squirting ketchup, grabbing squished run-away
grapes, and searching for a veggie to add to their plates that wouldn’t cause a
revolt.
“Mom—why aren’t you giving me watermelon?”
“Sorry, bud. I got delayed by a whole bunch of things that
needed to happen first. It’d be faster if you just dished it up yourself,”
which he was happy to do as I chopped the chicken.
Meanwhile, my daughter walked in with a picture she had
colored. “This is what I dreamt about,” she said, holding up a rainbow creation
that looked like it jumped off the pages of a Dr. Seuss book.
“Really? Last night I dreamt about cleaning out your
closet,” I said. “That’s about as mundane as it gets, huh?”
Choose Joy
What helps me in these moments is to reorient my perspective
on motherhood. When raising kids veers off toward “monotonous mom duties”
instead of “maternal bliss,” I take a moment to consciously choose to approach
life with a joyful frame of mind.
For instance, a friend once taught me to put a positive spin
on tedious laundry folding. As you pick up each piece of clothing, pray for the
family member it belongs to or think about something you appreciate about them.
This might be hard if all you can focus on is the tantrum your kid just dished
out or the child who thinks biting her brother is acceptable. But give it a
try; I’ve found that it’s hard to hold a grudge against someone you’re praying
for. And with all that laundry, it’s a good chunk of time up for grabs.
In addition to keeping everyone clothed, momming means I
spend ridiculous amounts of time cleaning up messes, juggling schedules, and
preparing meals for a family of six. But just because managing my household is
all-encompassing time-wise, it doesn’t mean that my mom job needs to be my source of worth.
Family—just like work, health, success, comfort, and approval—is
innately good. But when we put any one of these on a pedestal, we elevate it to
an unhealthy level, and life just gets out of whack. For me, it’s easy to
idolize motherhood, especially on days when I let it define who I am. In those
moments, the super-mom expectation is just waiting to crush me. And then I
remember: Sometimes dinner just needs to be popcorn and peanut butter crackers.
When I treat motherhood as if it’s my be-all and end-all, I
don’t flourish. I eventually hit a wall and burn out. Or, I get
unnecessarily defensive; some comment from a passerby telling me to put on my baby’s
hat will echo around in my head for hours. Instead, take a breath, say, “Thank
you,” and move on.
Step Back
The moments when motherhood seems most meaningful are when I
take a step back from active mothering, such as:
·
When my 3-year-old flashes an impish grin upon
completing a puzzle all by herself.
·
When my toddler lets out a belly laugh in
response to her brother’s raspberry kiss.
·
When my 5-year-old parades her baby sister around
the playground, holding hands and sheltering her from the rambunctious big
kids.
·
When my 1-year-old proudly delivers smoothies to
each of her siblings at dinnertime.
·
When my kids read to each other—in the
early years by pointing to and labeling pictures, now by sounding out and
recognizing words.
Reflecting on this list, raising kids appears to be one of
those vocations where your goal is to work yourself out of job. (College, here
they come!) It’s when I loosen my grip on the reins that I can delight in my
children’s developing independence, life skills, and character. By remembering
now who I am as an individual and a wife (rather than just a mom), hopefully
empty-nesting won’t be such a shock to the system and, instead, be the next
wonderful phase in a full life.
So, I let my kids dish up their own watermelon (and struggle
to put their shoes on, and dry themselves off after the bath, and sound out
spelling words on their own . . .). It’s not being lazy; it’s investing in our future.
And when I’m a grandma, I’ll be ready to dive back in like only a veteran mom
can.
This article was originally published on the Red Tricycle Spoke Contributor Network.
This article was originally published on the Red Tricycle Spoke Contributor Network.
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