Moms don’t need to hear we’re going to miss this. We need to hear we’re going to make it through this.
We won’t miss all the things. We won’t miss the constant interruptions, the sickness, the late nights, the inability to finish a sentence or focus on a single task for more than—please don’t poke your sister with your fork, get that chocolate off the floor before the dog eats . . . never mind, the baby ate it—seven seconds.
We won’t miss walking through a darkened bedroom and planting our feet squarely on blocks, trucks, and dismembered doll body parts.
We won’t miss finding dried boogers in weird places or cleaning up puke from sheets, the floor, rugs, toilet, our feet . . .
We won’t miss uncooperative kids. And we won’t miss guessing, I mean, wisely discerning from the litany of consequences related to the transgression the one that might actually make the lesson stick this time. We won’t miss the backtalk, the arguments, the eye rolls.
It’s OK to be honest. We won’t miss everything.
And if someone tells me they will, I want whatever is in their multi-vitamin.
It doesn’t mean we love our kids any less or that we’re any less of a mom.
It means we don’t have to pretend anymore that every single moment is perfect. It means it’s OK to recognize our limitations and admit we can’t do this mothering thing on our own. There will be times that are just plain hard.
We need support. We need compassion. We need patience.
We need forgiveness. We need grace.
We don’t need platitudes. We need the reminder that we are doing our best, that we are the parent our kid needs, and that help is only a prayer away.
We’re going to make it through this.