Yesterday was the Super Bowl, and dinner at my mom's....
I am out of groceries...
My kids both have colds.
Beckham is teething and has learned to say "uh-oh" which is an appropriate description for his mood.
Maddox is naked right now... because I don't want to risk waking sir-cries-a-lot, to get him dressed, and I am trying with all I have to not repeat the day with him today, that we had yesterday.
We have had a couple of rough days, to say the least...
Where everyone's crying....
My husband has been far from encouraging...
and I think that is the hardest part.
I know that every mom reading this knows what I am talking about....
It is probably like #2 on our job description....
Keep everyone else going.
But sometimes, wouldn't it be nice for someone to first notice that things are hard, before you have to
Motherhood is hard work.
So is marriage.
Lance and I were up until midnight, "talking".
I slept so far on the edge of the bed, it was more accurate to say I slept on the nightstand.
Let's not pretend like he noticed though, as soon as he was layed back against the pillow, he was snoring.
I stayed awake a bit longer....
Finally asleep, I dreamed I was giving marital advice to some of our friends who are splitting up right now, telling them that marriage is work but worth the fight and explaining all of the great things about being married.
God's a funny guy, I think.
But awake again,
I'm not over it.
Any of it.
While scrubbing counter tops, with a scowl on my face, I stopped and checked my email.
Because I know many of you have had the same type days as myself, I thought I would share my email.
It sure made me feel better.
And maybe it will be helpful to you as well.
I am sending this to my 2 favorite moms: one who constantly inspires me with her blog and the other who is my guardian angel, always sending me texts at the exact moment I start my pity parties. I want you to know that you ladies are amazing mothers and I immediately thought of you both when I read this story. Keep up the amazing job you are doing shaping your childrens' lives.
One of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'
Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more! Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this??
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'
Some days I'm a crystal ball; 'Where's my other sock?, Where's my phone?, What's for dinner?'
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history, music and literature -but now, they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England . She had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in.
I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when she turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'With admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: 1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. 2) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. 3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. 4) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A story of legend in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever see it And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was Almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does.
No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, no Cub Scout meeting, no last minute errand is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder.
As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for 3 hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, he'd say, 'You're gonna love it there...'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible mothers.
Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know... I just did.
The Will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you.
To all the wonderful mothers and grandmothers out there!! God bless and keep you.
As I am about to hit 'post', I got a message from my husband saying, "I'm sorry for last night. I love you."
I am going to accept it. Because life runs more smoothly that way.
But because I know my husband, and in the past decade I can count his apologies on one hand...
I am taking a pot to see if he even knows *what* he's sorry for.
I've got $50 on no. ;)
At least he gave effort.
It is now my job to let it go.
And grasp a hold of a new day.
I am hoping this nap re-sets my screaming teether.
And he awakes again as my quiet little snuggle-bug, who loves to clap and smile .
The 3 year old is being much-much better today, for sure.
Thank. You. Lord.
Today is better.
[But in case things flip out of whack again.... I get to go to work in 3 hours and Lance gets to play mommy.]
Anyway you look at it... things are going up!!