I just want to let you know I’m doing my best.
Life is crazy right now, and I know I’ve been saying that for what seems like forever . . . but I promise you I’m giving life—I’m giving everything—my absolute all.
I know I don’t keep up as well as I need to. Days, even weeks—dare I say months—go by without a call or a text from me, but I think about you often. I pray for you. I cheer on your achievements. I gush over all the pictures of your babies on my timeline. They are so incredibly cute, and you are such a good mama. Truly.
I know keeping up on social media is just the cheap way out, and I am so sorry. I want to do better. I scroll to your name on my phone, but before I can dial your number, two little hands wrap around my legs and little voices start to scream.
I’ve got two dirty diapers to change, and it’s time to eat again. Once I’m in the kitchen prepping the next meal, I notice that the sink is still full of dishes from this morning. I start cooking and doing dishes at the same time and before I know it, I’m also sweeping the crumbs off the floor and wiping up spilled juice in the living room.
An hour goes by faster than what seems like a minute, and it’s time to try to put the babies down for naps. The seemingly easy task actually takes another hour of singing, rocking, and coaxing. By the time they’re finally snoozing, I remember I haven’t eaten a thing all day.
I go back into the kitchen to grab a quick bite and then somehow get distracted by the newly dirtied dishes, the peanut butter smeared all over the table, and the mountain of laundry sitting on the couch waiting to be folded and put away.
My days blend together. Something always needs to be done. I spend my whole day pouring into my family, yet at the end of the day, I still feel like I haven’t poured enough.
Please just be patient with me. I’m doing my best.
I know I may seem flaky to you right now . . . and in all honesty, I kind of am. I want to spend quality time with you more than anything and making plans to get out from behind these four walls sounds so incredibly good.
But then I have to get dressed, and nothing in my closet fits me right now with the exception of my husband’s shirts and my maternity pants. I go to do my hair, and I can’t remember for the life of me when I had a chance to wash it last. The bags under my eyes are a dead giveaway I haven’t had a full night of sleep in ages.
The thought of the extensive checklist I have to go through in order to leave the house also hangs feverishly over my head. The shoes, the jackets, the diapers, the bottles, the hair ties (that somehow keep disappearing), the snacks, the cups, the potty breaks, the stroller, and the car seats.
I also wince a little at the memory of our last outing without Daddy’s help. I thought for sure one of the kids was going to have her first swimming lesson in the public bathroom. I also thought I was going to have a real-life heart attack when the other one took off in a dead sprint in the parking lot while I struggled to run after her holding two other babies. The tantrums that day were extra harsh due to the missed naps after lunchtime.
It’s so much easier to just stay at home where I’m comfortable.
Where I can contain my little circus. Where I can wear my oversized sweatpants, rock the t-shirt covered in spit-up, and throw my tangled, unwashed hair up in a messy bun without any judgment whatsoever.
Not that I think for a second you would judge me but because I would judge me.
I’m also a hundred thousand percent the mom who schedules outings around our nap times (and right now we have several of them). I do this for all of our sanity not because I’m trying to be difficult. If they don’t get rest, they become overtired. The tantrums multiply and their extra big world gets even bigger and more overwhelming. The smallest thing becomes too much for them to handle and the entire afternoon becomes a giant struggle.
I also rely on that small window of quiet time to pull myself together. I need that rest just as much as they do to recharge my batteries. To recharge my patience. To fill up my cup so I’ve got more to pour into them when they wake back up.
I feel awful for canceling with you for the third time in a row but please know I’m doing my best.
It’s already Tuesday, and I’m still feeling guilty for missing church again this last week. It’s the only outing that doesn’t completely throw me off. I feel at home there, and I look forward to being there so much every week. I even made breakfast for our Bible study meeting.
But then Sunday morning rolls around and the complete lack of sleep from the whole week before catches up to me. Am I getting sick? Oh my goodness. I hope not.
My husband is off work for the first time all week, and he’s able to keep the babies while I sleep in a bit. I don’t want to miss out, but I’m honestly in survival mode. I know if I don’t take advantage of this small break now, I will pay for it heavily in the days to come.
I truly admire you for being able to get out with your family numerous times a week and for doing it with so much grace. I think it’s so amazing that you’re in church every Sunday, and you also rock the heck out of your side business. You don’t ever seem to miss a beat. You are so wonderful, and I’ll say it again—you are such a great mama.
Although our days look so different, I’m doing my best, too.
I’m trying to be the very best mama I can be, and right now, that sometimes means staying home where I’m comfortable. Where I can care for my babies and myself with confidence. Where we can play without a care in the world. Where we’ve got everything we need.
I pray the good Lord knows my heart and knows my intentions. I pray my friends and family also know my heart and that my intentions are only good.
I am in a messy stage of life right now. I am extremely sleep deprived and running on not enough time. I’m needed in every single way right now by babies. But please also know I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I’m struggling in a beautiful way. I’m exactly where I want to be and where I’ve always dreamed of being.
I just didn’t know it would be so hard on my other relationships.
I promise I’ll do better someday.
I want to say it’ll all change soon, but I know that’s not true. This is a season, not a storm. When I’m not so heavily depended on for every little thing by my sweet little babes, you’ll have me back. Until then, just know I adore you. I still need you in my life. Don’t give up on me. Be patient with me. I’m doing my best.
P.S. We love the encouragement and insight in Mom Up: Thriving With Grace in the Chaos of Motherhood. Don’t have time to sit and read? Listen to it here, on Audible.
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