I am a redhead. This is not an excuse, but rather an explanation. Most the time, I will describe myself as a "strawberry blonde, emphasis on the blonde," because, well, I am somewhat of a blonde! But I also am very much a redhead. Temper and all.
This is hard for some people to believe, but it's there. I've worked on getting rid of it, but then out of the blue, I didn't get enough sleep, my toddler is whiny, I get a business text on my day off, then my teenager gives me a look. You all know the look. On a normal day, I might ignore it. On a happy day, I will say something snarky as I laugh and walk away. But then, I have my days, when my red hair gets the better of me, and I end up scolding her in a ten minute long lecture about respect, theology, and historical possibly made-up facts. Yeah, I end up in a tangent or two.
Then I rant for awhile to my husband who usually patiently listens to me, because he's pretty much amazing. Then he says, "I think you might be overreacting."
Or... as happened yesterday, my daughter meekly asked, "Can I ask you something? Like a serious question."
I sighed, "Yes."
Then she said, "Are you pregnant again?"
Oh, well... Yeah, maybe I was slightly overreacting. I mean, no, I am not pregnant. Maybe I have some apologizing to do.
Then I feel defeated. I think back of how I failed. I lament over the fact that I apologize way more than any mother should have to. I analyze all the ways I am lacking. I am not patient enough. I am hotheaded. I am too busy to sit down and enjoy my girls like I want to. I want time alone, then feel guilty because my girls just want me. I don't return calls as quickly as I should. I forget to pay bills. I show up late to appointments. Let's not forget the mountain of laundry, and my husband doesn't have clean underwear. My oldest is mad at me. My youngest still gets rocked to sleep, which I don't want others to know. The dogs are past due for their shots. I am failing. I am behind. I am just not enough.
Then I realize, I will never be the woman I think I should be. That person, that ideal, does not exist. Even if I could manage doing all the things I think I should be doing, then I would still have to sacrifice something else. I work on my husband's business. I babysit to help out a friend. I home-school. I do a lot, yet I think I should do more.
Truth is, I need to cut myself some slack. Forgive myself for not being superwoman. Forgive myself for not always having it all together. I'm not the only mom who loses it on her children once in awhile. I am human.
And by the way, yes I am talking to you mom. The one who is reading this, thinking of your failures. Give yourself some grace. Forgive yourself for your failings. And remember, you aren't supposed to be supermom. You are just supposed to love them, and raise them in the way they should go. And when you fail. Remember, if you were perfect, they wouldn't need God.
After six years of infertility, she was blessed with the adoption of her oldest daughter who now is a teenager. Six years later, she finally became a mother a second time, this time with a baby through a donated egg and ivf. Throughout that time, she fostered nine babies and toddlers, met wonderful women who helped her grow, and learned to rely on Jesus. She started this blog with the hope that she could share her joy, experience, and willingness to grow with others, whether they battle infertility, toddlers, or teens.