Today is a day where I’m uncertain about everything having to do with motherhood.
Are we scheduled enough? Do we have enough free time?
Is the house clean enough? Are we making enough mess with our play?
Am I spending enough focused time with the kids? Are the kids independent enough?
Are we at home enough? Are we out enough? Do we sleep enough? Do we eat enough?
And it goes on and on and on…
Goodness, woman, you can’t be all things at once. That’s what I think when I read my thoughts out loud. Sometimes, I wake up and realize that I’ve been focusing my whole day around trying to make sure the kids watch less TV than they did the day before. No TV? Even better! When did I start measuring my success as a mother by that thing plugged into the wall? And when did I ever think that success was a part of motherhood, anyway? Asinine. Both those thoughts.
I reject the idea that one goal for my mothering is to be everything for my kids. Somewhere along the line, the conviction to love selflessly and the idea that I am an influential person to my children got really, seriously mixed up. To the point that it bothered me to think of my children needing people who were not ME. I’m finding parts of my motherhood to still be rather self-centric, all about whether or not I am enough.
News flash to me: I will never be enough for my kids. Never. Not once. They need so much more than me and what I can offer them. That is good, and healthy, and okay.
I want to stop thinking of mothering in terms of success, of measurements, of standards. Love is an impossible standard, anyway. Today, for the rest of the day, let’s just love. Let’s talk, and watch, and do our work, and not worry. I will work on loosening my death-trap grip on my children, and living out of the understanding that they were never mine to begin with.
So many things about walking with Christ are paradoxical, I don’t know why I thought mothering would be any different.