Momming Hard

Is it 9 am for you but it feels like you have already logged an 8 hr day? You sit blurry-eyed sipping coffee. Wishing that caffeine would hurry up and just shoot through your veins. 

Today, you need energy. Add in a time change and one up in the middle of the night and you are toast.

Your toddler climbs into your lap with his crusty nose and says, Hi Mommy.

These are heart-thumping days because of this gentle love. You look down at his big blue eyes and footy pajamas and think, I am grateful but I am one exhausted Mom. 

The next child sitting across the room is carefully picking out every single marshmallow she can find in her Lucky Charms.

We are now left with a box of cardboard nuggets, minus the prize that her skinny little arm and fingers attempted to grab. She touched every piece of cereal until that prize was removed. She has tenacity and victory.

Quite a bit of determination in this one. I smile wondering what she will do for work as an adult. That should be an interesting journey.

When your world is filled with littles you can forget where you fit except when answering the hair raising scream. You know the one, MOM, belted out loud enough to shatter glass.

There is no emergency, only the ear-piercing scream to know exactly where you are at this very moment. 

That’s all. No emergency, no blood anywhere, just curious to know where you went. And then, of course, the confused look at your cranky response to them.

Bathroom time has now turned into beating the clock and skipping your leg shaving because who has time for that? 

Dry shampoo will definitely have to work for this hair, again. The list of tasks runs through your mind as you think about the day ahead.

Wondering when the last time was you were able to squeeze in a workout. You exhale. These are the best days of my life. Picking up socks, stepping on another lego that you are certain will one day send you to the hospital.

Wiping noses and rear ends. Brushing hair and kissing boo-boos. Watching, for the 326th time the same Paw Patrol episode. Aagh, these are the days of littles. Reading the same bedtime story over and over because this one is her favorite.

I collapse into my chair with my bible pressed against my heart whispering, thank you, Jesus, for trusting me with your littles. I want to do it well.

Being faithful in a little moment is actually the grandest of any moment. To breathe in the joy of Momming. It’s hard work, often forgotten until it isn’t done.

Momming is definitely underpaid. She could go on strike but instead, she opts out for quite the opposite. 

Crumpled up hair on top of her head, she gladly will be spent to pour out on purpose for this season of her life. She knows she isn’t forgotten but chosen for these littles. One tiny hand cupped in mine as mine is cupped in The Father’s hand.

Can you sneak in 15 minutes for you? When you feel spent and poured out recognize you have one who wants to pour into you.

Rest isn’t a four-letter word.

Asking for help is a sign of strength, not weakness. On your tired days may strength be given to you and renewed joy imparted to your soul. May coffee zip through your veins as you take on another day of Momming. Enjoy your littles because they won’t always be little.

Lord, may you give me strength and grace to raise them. Love to hold them close to my heart and yours, comfort to calm their fears and prayers to sustain their life. Thank you for the privilege of being their Mama.

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