Dearest Mom with Small Children, Live Life to the Fullest!
This is an open letter, to all moms (particularly those with small children). It has come to pass, that life has thrown me several headaches, bouts of vertigo, and all-out fatigue. Times when I can’t concentrate, yet still push myself to freelance write in the name of sanity. I wanted to feel purposeful. I wanted to live life to the fullest as a mom superhero.
And that, mamas, was my biggest mistake.
I equated my purpose with the amount of work I completed. Scratch that. I equated my purpose with the amount of PROFESSIONAL work I completed. My mind totally negated the tasks I did to help my family thrive. The mundane, repetitive, everlasting tasks… It took several days of being literally unable to get up from bed to finally open my eyes.
So, here it is, my letter in its entirety.
Dear mom with small children,
Let’s skip the clichés, okay? Let’s look ourselves straight in eyes and admit we feel like crap. For many years, I have stuck to the notion that a positive attitude will pull me through. But, it’s so hard. In your heart of hearts, you know the children are watching you. You can’t just cry in the corner and give up on life. And because of that, you push on.
Regardless, the role of mom is a hard one. Not only do you have to manage the household when you are sick, but you also have to clean up after yourself as well. Do you get bitter about it? Do you let it consume you?
The answer is no.
To live life to the fullest, you cannot pretend it does not exist. The craziness you are enduring is a fact of life, God willing, at least for the next eighteen years. Yet, there is something so grand about the perseverance of mom, that not only do we desire to maintain our homes, but we are constantly filled with that itch to do more.
Such an ugly word. Dear mom with small children, if it hasn’t hit you yet, it will soon. That ambition that sets in when hubby is away at work. That accountably for cleanliness, and playdates, and lack of non-musical toys. The constant juggle of reoccurring dinners, and ironing, as well as proving you can grow your client list. Not to mention, the little hearts that are watching your every move.
Yep. Those little people that you would give your very kidneys to. The little one’s with half of your DNA. For some reason the world, and me influenced by it, forgot how big of a task it is to raise them. How complete and full term the solidarity of this job should be… but how empty it is often spoken.
So, when the term “more” bangs upside your head, I just want you to be prepared. I’m not going to try to stop you. It’s like a parent trying to advise a teen. You have your mind made up and you feel that my words of advice are not applicable. It’s ok. Been there, done that.
Things I want you to remember.
This, dear mamas, is what you need to take away from this letter. Your struggle is real, but it is also fictitious. Please do not kill the messenger. The battle you are facing is from the enemy, not from our Father. Motherhood was meant to be blessed, as the will was to be fruitful and multiply. I understand you really feel the defeats of the day. That is the real. But, the secession of thoughts that follow after every challenge, that is the placebo.
To live life to the fullest, you have got to understand that there is duality in the matter. Even when you face the grim brunt of the season, happiness still exists. To enjoy all motherhood has to offer, whining children included, you’ve got to actively pursue only the truth.