I’m gonna be honest, here…
I’ve had a rough go of it over the last few months. For whatever reason, my stress and anxiety have taken a pretty bad turn and at the beginning of each day I think, “Is this really how the day is going to go?” and then at the end of each day I think, “Seriously? Do I have to be like that?”
I get angry with myself because my attitude is ugly. All day long, I feel impatient and then I get mad at myself for being impatient. I feel irritated, and then I get mad at myself for being irritated. I feel rushed, and then I get mad at myself for being rushed. And that list? It just goes on and on and on.
In the mornings, I find myself in utter chaos. Toys have been flung everywhere, my 16-month-old is asking to nurse for the 3rd time in an hour, my 3-year-old is taking every single toy away from the 16-month-old (which is what’s making him want to nurse 3 times in an hour), and the coffee (that I made at 6am) is cold and the devotions (that I began at 6:15am) sit before me, half-finished. When I catch a moment to dive back into my devotions, my 16-month-old brings me all of his favorite books and makes his little “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh?” sound that means, “Will you read this to me?” while making the sign for “please.” And I want to smile, and weep, and crawl into a hole, and read a thousand books to that precious boy all at the same time. And I just think, why am I so stressed out? What is it in me that causes me to react so strongly to this chaos? Why does my brain feel like it’s about to explode every time one of my children need something from me?
I don’t know. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.
But in the midst of the stress, and the anxiety, and the weeping, I can hear this voice in the back of my head: “Slow down. Just slow down. One day, your boys won’t be begging you to read Snuggle Puppy 5 times in a row. One day, Forrest won’t want to nurse 3 times in an hour, or ever. One day, Jack will stop wanting to cuddle your arm and kiss it 70,000 times. Just slow down.”
And I’m so perplexed because I keep trying to listen to this voice, and yet – I fail. I feel defeated, and I want to ask you, “Is this just the way it is?”
But I don’t want to hear an empathetic “Yes,” or “It’s just a season,” or whatever. I refuse to believe that this is what I must settle for – even if it’s just for a season. I refuse to believe that I cannot overcome this in this season.
If there’s one thing I’m positive of, it’s that God made me the mama of my boys for a reason. He gave me to them, and he gave them to me – and that also means that he gave me the tools for the job. He gave me the ability to rise above the stress and look at the situation for what it really is.
It’s beautiful. Beautiful chaos. And I know that.
I’m just trying to figure out how to live that. I’m trying to figure out which pocket of my brain has all those tools stashed away in there.
I don’t want to cry over cold coffee. I don’t want to have to remind myself to take deep breaths when my baby asks me to read to him.
I want to remember, “I’m gonna miss this,” right in that moment – and then choose to cherish it all.
Because what’s a cup of hot coffee when compared to my babies curled up in my arms?