So God Made a Mother Collection ➔
I was chatting with a mom friend yesterday I hadn’t seen in months. Her marriage is on the brink. She was at the point emotionally where she wanted to cry but shrug at the same time because she didn’t know what tomorrow would look like.
I hugged her tightly and told her I was there for her. But it’s so hard, I know. Marriage with young kids is harder than any other relationship hurdle I’ve experienced. And I know a lot of moms—maybe most moms—experience the same thing. Having kids, something that should tie us to our partner more than anything, pushes us apart daily, even moment to moment.
It’s the sleep deprivation; it’s the schedule shifts; it’s the dissolution of privacy, sense of self, and autonomy. It’s the lack of communication, and not because you both aren’t trying . . . but because you do not have a minute alone with just the two of you.
“Marriage is all about communication.”
PLEASE STOP RIGHT THERE. If you don’t think we don’t know that already and that hasn’t been hurled down our throats enough times to choke us out, you are dead wrong.
But to even have a minute to communicate . . . where is that? Is that the few minutes I’m sitting on the toilet hoping no one is hovering outside the door? Is that changing into my pajamas and washing my face, appreciating a few moments of silence while keenly listening for signs of raised voices from the kids downstairs? Is that at the dinner table, while my kids throw food and my husband and I try to keep our voices calm, eat as fast as we can, and keep our kids’ plates from winding up on the floor?
Or is the few moments we do manage to steal away for ourselves, when we play on our phones or stare out the window? When our bodies mentally shut down and reboot, ready for the next energy burst? Because those moments are important, too. Those moments sometimes feel like the only thing keeping me sane and grounded when it feels like I’m going to shift into mommy rage or perhaps something even worse—contempt.
And yet, it gets easier. Everyone says it gets easier and I am starting to feel it ever so slightly. The kids are starting to play a little more on their own. My husband and I sometimes catch ourselves in the bedroom alone while the kids play together peacefully. On car rides, in bed, and in the calm moments we can engage, make eye contact, and see each other again.
Because when I look in my partner’s eyes, I see him. I see the man I married. He’s not just a dad. He’s my love. He’s my life partner. He is in this circus right there with me. And even though this time in our lives is so, so hard, this is making us stronger. A little stronger every day. Our kids make our marriage stronger.
I can see the yellow blur of the school bus passing in front of my window. Soon my little boy will excitedly burst through the front door with his picture of a giraffe from art class. His big brown eyes will meet mine as I get a toothless “I missed you, Mom” grin. He will tell me everything he had on his tray for lunch, recount the whole soccer game at recess, and share all about that hilarious thing his friend said on the bus. He will then sit on my lap as he takes each school paper out of...
As I sat outside Walmart watching my husband of nearly 16 years walk in with my 9-year-old daughter to buy me a box of tampons, I realized how blessed I am. This is real life. Not only does he not care about running into the store and picking up these items, he asks our girls if they want to join him, and they use this time to talk. They talk about real-life—about growing up, changing bodies, what tampons are even for, how they can wait years and years before they need to start dating, how he will be waiting outside...
My 6-year-old daughter wants to be a soldier. When we heard from the ultrasound tech that we were having another girl, that was not exactly the career path that popped into our heads. There’s something absolutely terrifying knowing your child wants to do something big like this. I’m sure I’d be petrified if I had a son with the same ambition, but there’s something extra scary about it being your little girl. There’s something weighty about raising a daughter who wants to be a soldier. But honestly, it’s not a surprise at all. RELATED: God Has Filled Your...
I whisk my daughter through the doors of urgent care and cradle her head as I stand behind three other mamas clinging to their babies. We’re each rocking in different ways but moving nonetheless. The silent, comforting rhythm of motherhood. I see sad, sick eyes from the babies with their heads nestled into the necks of their mama. I’m tired from the sleepless night, and I shift from foot to foot. There is hushing and humming and back-patting. A pacifier drops to the floor. All of a sudden my daughter feels heavy. A vague sinking feeling comes over me, like...
Many of us who live with autism are familiar with the comings and goings of the ticking time bomb—one that disappears for periods of time, so much so that we might forget about it. Then, suddenly, this bomb drops at our doorstep in the form of a returning or new obstacle, so intense that it causes us to pause our lives, alter our plans, maybe even change our current paths. For our family, the new challenge has been sudden, piercing, sporadic screams. Not constant, not even often, thankfully, but jolting nonetheless. So here we were, in the midst of our...
My kids are heavily involved in sports. My son plays for an elite basketball team and my daughter competes on an Xcel gymnastics team. It takes up a lot of our time and a lot of our money. Even though prioritizing youth sports seems to be an American norm, we still sometimes receive criticism and judgment as to why we would spend so much of our time and resources on it. (“Don’t you know the chances of your child going pro is less than 1%?”) As I sat at my daughter’s gymnastics meet, listening to the parents cheer so excitedly...
From the moment our children are born, other people make it challenging to stay in the present moment—they start asking questions that look forward instead of at the now we are in. Can you believe how big she’s getting, where did your newborn go? Oh my goodness, he’ll be walking any day now! Are you thinking about preschool? What will you do when they’re both in school? What will you do when your baby goes to college? While these questions may come with good intentions, they’re not helpful at all. We moms need to be allowed to be fully in...
Math has always come easily to him. Even from the beginning stages when we counted wooden blocks on the living room floor, the numbers just came to him. “How many blocks are there?” I asked him, pointing to the scattered row of blocks. I expected him to count them. He was only three or four years old. “Six,” he answered promptly. “Yes . . . but how did you know that?” I asked hesitantly. He had not taken the time necessary to have counted them. “Three and three are six,” he replied. And on it went. The math came easily,...
I have four kids, and like most parents, I’m doing my best to give them a happy childhood, but we’re not really an activity family. Don’t get me wrong, we love a good day trip to the local water park or a night out at the movies, but with several different ages and a tight budget, activities or outings are rare for us. Sometimes I end up feeling bad about it, like our kids are missing out, but then I take a deep breath and realize that some of the best moments come from the simplest of things. Lucky for...
Dear Kindergarten Graduate—Wherever Life Takes You, I’ll Always Be Your Safe Place To Land
In: Kids, Motherhood
I cried on your first day of kindergarten. Did you know that? I held it together through the getting ready and the goodbyes—but once I had waved one last time and was pulling out of the parking lot, the lump in my throat poured out as hot tears down my cheeks. How could you be starting kindergarten? You, my precious firstborn baby. We had some growing pains as we adjusted to a new routine. The school days were so long. I spent my days missing you and you spent yours missing me. We were apart from each other more than...