Eternal perspective is what it all boils down to for me. One of the hardest things for me is that being with my kids isn’t fun all the time, or even most of the time. The funny thing is, sometimes it IS fun most of the time! But those days, weeks, months are short-lived, as are the really, really bad ones. The alternate frustration and satisfaction of mothering are so unpredictable. I’m reading The Hobbit and Bilbo and all the dwarves are stuck in that awful forest of Mirkwood where they can’t see any daylight or find any fresh water or breathe any fresh air and when they are about at their wit’s end they send Bilbo up a tree to see if the end is in sight. Of course Bilbo doesn’t know what he is looking for so all he sees is a butterfly and comes down and tells everybody they are smack in the middle of endless despair when in reality they are almost through. Maybe it was Jenni’s prompt, but I couldn’t help but laugh at what an apt parable that is for parenting! And if Bilbo had only been able to impart some cheer and encouragement it would have done wonders, whereas even a few more steps are hard to take when you can’t see beyond the next small hurdle. SO, one of the things I try to do is cling to the small good things that do happen. For example, Henry loves to cuddle right now, and sometimes it drives me crazy! He ALWAYS wants to snuggle and lots of the time I get frustrated because I have dishes to wash, floors to mop, and I really want to be left alone! But almost every time I do go and cuddle my heart is softened. One night I was looking at old pictures and I didn’t even realize that I was WEEPING until Andy came in. I realized how fast my kids are growing up and changing and how fiercely I really do love them. When I search my heart, they have displaced nearly everything that was once dear to me. Not important things, but things I used to think were important. I have often prayed to have a change of heart, or a mother heart, and I realize that prayer is slowly being answered. Sometimes I just have to step back and think about what I want in the long run and acknowledge that it’s going to be painful.
One more thing on perspective. I was promised once, long before I had or wanted children, that my children would some day bring greater peace and joy to my life than I had ever yet experienced. Nothing was mentioned about greater anger and frustration of course, but there is no way I would trade the intensity of love and feeling I have deep down. I remember Hans Kindt saying that “we are not meant to do our fishing on the surface of a shallow life.” I think of all the things that brought me satisfaction before I became a mother and all the things I could be doing with my time now and every one of them comes up shallow compared to the depth of emotion and growth I feel as a mother.
One more thing and then I’ll quit, maybe, for now anyway. And this is specifically about NOT WORKING. STAYING HOME, ALL THE TIME, WITH THE KIDS. I cheat a little cause I have my sewing gigs, but even that has brought me more guilt and trouble than it is worth. That night I was looking at pictures I realized that those were the quality moments of my life. 99% of them were unplanned. Sometimes it was an impromptu picnic, or a quickie on the swings, or even a huge mess somebody made and I grabbed the camera instead of spanking their butt and we all laughed instead of cried. I think that to get QUALITY time with your kids, you have to invest QUANTITY time, wade through the garbage to get the goods. If only we could schedule all the good times for after 5:00 I would say, hey, let’s start a quilt shop/exercise club/personal training center/book store and all get a job there. But if you aren’t THERE, at home, most of the time, you miss the good stuff. And I’m not willing to let that go. Even the dark days are part of our experience together as a family. I realize this is starting to sound preachy and you all KNOW this, but I constantly have to remind myself of it. I can’t help throwing out that we shouted for joy in the preexistence, even knowing what we’d be in for, and the relationships we have with our people is something we’ll take with us when we go. What a tender thing it is to be able to share the best and the worst of ourselves with our families. On the dark days, I just have to find a quiet moment (sometimes that's at 1:30 a.m.) and remind myself that in the long run: THIS is what I choose.
