So God Made a Teacher Collection (Sale!) ➔

Once upon a time, an introvert (me) married an extrovert (my husband). And they had babies (really cute ones). And the babies turned into toddlers.

While I was pregnant, I was warned about getting touched out. Excess physical contact from little ones wanting hugs or breastfeeding or co-sleeping or tapping on mom’s arm—constant physical contact—all day, every day.

Being on the reserved side as far as physical touch, I expected this to be a challenge. And I was surprised to find it didn’t bother me as much as I anticipated.

But what did overwhelm me? The talking and the noise.

I’m an introvert by nature. My single days were filled with solo hikes through Tennessee’s rolling green hills, afternoons sprawled on the couch reading fiction in the sunshine, or trips to Target while I leaned against a red shopping cart and sipped my caramel macchiato, contemplating which scented candle to purchase. I lived on my own, too—a one-bedroom was my solitary oasis after a long workday full of discussions and meetings.

RELATED: I’m An Introvert—And I Love It

I have no problem being alone and no issue with quiet. While some people long for the background noise of television or music while driving, my preference has always been to think in silence.

So, when babies and kids arrived on the scene with the chatter and constant questions and crying and verbalizing their every thought, needing spoken affirmation that, yes, I’ve heard for the fourth time that they want the yellow Play-Doh and a snack right now . . .  

I realized it took about two seconds for me to feel talked out.

The kids are still little and most days I still feel overwhelmed from all the talking. I long to finish reading a chapter of my book without another interruption or write a note without answering 20 questions (What are you writing? Who is it for? Can I have a piece of paper? How do you spell dinosaur? Can you draw a motorcycle?) Even as I type this, one kid is “reading” books and telling me about every single picture while another kid is running around the other room yelling about snacks and asking to go outside to see Dad.

RELATED: It’s OK To Admit You Need a Break From All the Noise, Mama

But then one of them comes over just to press a sloppy kiss to my cheek and say, “I wuv you.” Or another thrusts a chubby little hand in front of my work to bring me a bouquet of dandelions, telling me all about the pretty flowers in our yard. Or delight fills a face as they chatter excitedly about a new discovery they made about the world and how things fit together.

And suddenly the interruption and the noise don’t feel as annoying.

I take a deep breath and release the frustration, allowing myself to delight in my kids and this season of life and the relative newness of this wonderful world they’re discovering. I try to give my kids and myself more grace and allow myself to lean into the questions and constant chatter that comes with mothering tiny people.

I’m still talked out. But I’m learning to enjoy it.

Gretchen Hoffman

Gretchen is a Jesus enthusiast, wife/mama, and math lover. When she's not playing with her kids or answering, "Why?" for the hundredth time, she enjoys reading, writing, and learning to live cross-culturally. You can find her on Instagram at @thewritegretchen.

No One Told Me How Overstimulating Motherhood Would Be

In: Motherhood
Mother and toddler hug

“Hey, Mom, come look at this!” my son called from the living room.  I was at the stove sauteing veggies for our dinner. Between stirs, I picked up my phone to respond to an email I had been trying to get to all day. A distracting clink-clink was coming from the dryer. I probably forgot to check pockets again and will find a pile of rocks from the playground in there later, I thought. My 3-year old stood at the counter beside me, reaching her little hand into the bag of shredded cheese—only about half of which actually made it to...

Keep Reading

Maybe She’s Not Rude, She’s Just An Introvert

In: Living
Side view of woman

“No offense, but I thought you were a little stuck-up when I first met you,” a friend of mine confided in me a few weeks ago. She went on to say that when I didn’t talk much the first time we met—and then politely declined a few invitations shortly thereafter—she wondered if I thought I was better than her. The truth is, that’s not the first time I’ve been accused of being a little snobby. It’s something I always worry about after meeting someone for the first time. Did I say enough? Was I making eye contact the whole time? Did...

Keep Reading

Dear Introverted Mom, Take that Break

In: Faith, Motherhood
Woman outside with book and food

I am alone, in a hotel room, 20 minutes from home, lying back in the crisp bed, feet propped up on billowing white pillows. A good book is in my hand. The large window beside me overlooks the Mississippi River as the sun slowly sets and people unwind for a southern Louisiana evening in downtown Baton Rouge. I’ll probably order room service for dinner. I spent the afternoon at the coffee shop across the street, sipping on a deliciously caffeinated beverage carefully made to my liking. I ate a delicate snack filled with fruits, fancy lettuce, and expensive cheese while...

Keep Reading

To the Introverted Mom Who’s Feeling Overwhelmed

In: Motherhood
To the Introverted Mom Who's Feeling Overwhelmed www.herviewfromhome.com

As an introvert, I am comfortable being alone. After spending time with large groups of people, I need my time and space to recharge. Therefore, socialization takes concerted effort and strategic planning (i.e. what is a reasonable amount of time to make an appearance and slip out?). I’m one of those people who have a small circle of close friends rather than a vast network. My connections may be few, but they’re deep. Being an introvert has brought its challenges in my life (I’m looking at you, speaking presentations), but I’m comfortable with who I am and have found a...

Keep Reading

Get our FREE phone wallpaper to encourage you as the new school year begins

It's bittersweet for a mother to watch her child grow—but you both are ready to soar.