I am a Gerbil

I am a gerbil.  I'm sure that if you have a husband and/or kids, you know exactly what I mean, but in case you don't....I swear that motherhood has given me obsessive compulsive mutitasking disorder.  I cannot go potty (yes, I said potty) without thinking, "Is that drawer close enough that I can organize it from here?", and the thing is, messy though that drawer may be, I've organized it before.  In fact, most of my life is like one giant Groundhog's day of household chores and butt wiping.  Now, I'm not complaining; I love being a stay-at-home mom, and I am undeservedly blessed with all of those precious moments that my husband sacrifices that come between, "MOM, Come wipe meeeee." and "She's touching me!!", but occasionally I am hit by the seeming redundancy of my treadmill life.

In theory, I enjoy curling up with a blankie and a good book, but, in fact, my couch is merely a vantage point from which I can survey the undone minutia of my life.  And as if that were not enough, while my body is on the errand wheel, my mind is running swiftly upon the wheel of guilt.  Felicia fun mom gets down on the floor and plays for hours with her kids and never tires of Candyland...Vivian volunteer cheerfully models service, while juggeling three kids, and heading up the Put-Together Moms Leauge of America, and it feels like I am never quite measuring up to the all-American, bubble dress wearing mom that I hope to be.  (I know, I know, here we are, blogging on my shortcommings again, sorry to be a drag).

But then I remember, "Be still, and know that I am God."  I am the right mom for these kids, and I am the right wife for this husband, and I have some fantastic unique qualities that make me so, because, "I am fearfully and wonderfully made."

I need to learn to parent with a perspective on the big picture; for the end result instead of just seeing the immediate mundane.  I need to learn to work with my hands, and rest in the Lord with my heart.  In the rare and beautiful moments that I do that, I see my life.

My baby is squealing with delight with her toothless mouth, and my preschooler's fort is no longer just a mess, but a gateway to a magical land.

I Am Nevuh Comming Out of My Room, Evuh!!!!

In my family (of origin), we yell.  Even if something is really not a big deal, we still yell, and if you are the type of person who is not inclined to yell, no one will ever hear you, because everyone else is yelling.  It seems to be a time honored family trait.  My grandparents, who have been together since their teens, seem to thrive on antagonizing one another; it brings them joy.  If they did not have each other to yell at, they would be supreamely miserable.

It never occured to me until after I realized how much I was yelling at my daughter, that I might have the option of just not yelling.  It should come as no surprize therefore, that my nearly four year old, who does not want to go to school, is in her room shouting, nay, screaming, "If You Don't Come Back Right Now, I'm Nevuh Comming Out Of My Room, (dramatic pause) EVUH!"

One year ago, a shouting match would have ensued, but now, a few too many appologies for mommy loosing her cool, and a lot of time in prayer later, I am able to say calmly, " You may come out when you are quiet and calm. In one hour, you will get in the car, even if you are still in your pajamas." Yay Holy Spirit!,  because that definitely was not me.

I know that to at least some extent, her outbursts are a result of my poor modeling, and I feel guilty that my second born has a more even tempered mother than my first did, but then I remember that conviction is from Him, and guilt is not.  I know that he is using my struggle for self-restraint to show her what it looks like to work through a strong temper, and to show us both the grace of forgiving and moving on.

During those first couple of years of adjusting to motherhood, I spent so much time expecting the impossible from myself and my husband, that I underestimated God's provision for me in my exhaustion, and through all of my old family baggage.  The more I depend upon Him, the more I experience his sublime grace through the chaos of this season.  I know I haven't lost my temper for the last time, but today, I secretly empathize with my beautiful tempest's flair for the dramatic, and though she cannot hear me, today, I do not yell~I laugh.

Katie Scarlette hangs up her mantle of self-serving B! and tries to become Melanie Wilkes

Marriage is like having a baby.  People can tell you about how hard it is, and until you are in the situation, it's all just the voice of Charlie Brown's teacher. Our pastor recently quoted Katherine Ann Porter- "Marriage is the merciless revealer, the great white searchlight turned on the darkest places of human nature.", and it struck me how much my marriage is revealing to Me about my shortcommings.   I try to become the wife and mother that God wants me to be, but it's a constant struggle against myself (read-I suck at it!), so I decided to start this blog, just in case there is anyone out there that can be encouraged by my epic failures and continued efforts.

There is a woman inside my head who my husband needs me to be.  She's a morning person, she didn't loose her sense of playfulness when we had kids, she doesn't loose her cool when things don't go according to plan, she has boundless energy and is always cheerful, and she NEVER gets too tierd, stressed, or distracted to make love enthusiastically-there's more, but I'm sure you get the idea.  I wish I was her, and I try to be, but more often than not, the moment comes and my tounge slips, or I am exhausted, and..I fail.  I am sure my husband thinks about this nonexistant woman far less than I do, but I live with the constant guilt of not being her.

I want to be a Godly wife "more valuable than rubies", but on the other hand, the shrew in me is frustrated.  I use to be able to wound when wounded. I inherited a wicked tongue and a lawyer's mind.  I can trap a man in his own words before he can figure out what happened, but as a Christian, I am supposed to check my arsenol at the alter and take the high road of self-control (with good reason, I know), but as my husband is a seeker, and not a Christian, the playing feild isn't totally level.

So, long story short, I find the role of temperate wife and mother does not come naturally, and will be a battle and hopefully a source of humorous antecdotes for some time to come.  So, mabey someone will relate, or maybe I'm sending this out into the void, but in either case, I gain perspective from putting it out there, so wish me luck!