Pre-Order So God Made a Mother

I’m bustling into a restaurant, a child on my hip, another gripping the crook of my elbow, a backpack hanging off my shoulder, hitting innocent bystanders as I clamber between tables. Everyone looks, but I don’t notice. Or if I do notice, I don’t care. My eyes are searching the restaurant, and then I see hermy childless friend sitting at a table by her lonesome. I sigh with relief she hasn’t left yet, and she smiles at the sight of us. Thank God she does. If I saw us barreling into public, I’d probably look the other way.

“I am so sorry I am late,” even though I desperately mean it, I say it hurriedly as I begin removing jackets, stuffing a child into a high chair, helping another into her seat, set my purse and the backpack down, and immediately begin digging around for crayons.

“It’s OK, you’ve got your hands full,” she says, staring at me as I still haven’t sat down. And I think to myself yep, she’s right. But then I get mad at myself that she shouldn’t be right. Lots of people have two little kidsare they always late? Perhaps. I know I am.

If I am towing two extra people around with me, yes, I’m going to be late.

Especially if I’m alone. And with my husband’s two jobs and starting a new business, it happens often.

I finally sit, and there is immediate questioning from one or more children on if there is mac and cheese on the menu (if not, whyyyyyyy), and are they allowed chocolate milk, and a need to know the whereabouts of a bathroom in case it’s needed, and how many steps do I think we walked from the car to our seats. . . 

Finally, we fall into conversation and there are pictures being colored and jokes being shared, and I feel better I left her sitting here by herself for an estimated 35 minutes. (Not like I checked the time every six seconds on the drive over).

So, to my friends and family, I’m sorry I’m late.

I’m always late.

And until my tiny humans can dress themselves, brush their own teeth and hair, find and tie their own shoes, put on and zip their own jackets, get their own snacks and drinks, and change the channel on the television by themselves so I can change out of my pajamasI will continue to be late. And I’d like this to be a blanket apology to everyone I may arrange plans with for the next ten years. I’m sorry, but if I tell you the kids and I will be there at 12:30, know we probably won’t be there until 1. At best.

I have good intentions. I don’t wait until the last minute to get everyone assembledoften, it’s the opposite of that. Often, we’ve all started getting ready two hours before we are scheduled to leave the house.

But more often than not, there is a meltdown over an incorrect sock, or someone is starving because they only ate a half of a waffle for breakfast, or the incorrect sippy cup has the incorrect fluid, or someone wants their already dry hair blow-dried. So I have to then wet said hair to blow it dry again. Yes, this is a real example. I am not creative enough to make this up. Or someone just doesn’t want to get dressed and hides behind curtains or under tables or in closets which will inevitably turn into a game of unexpected hide-and-seek. And no, friends, I cannot plan for a 15 minute game of spontaneous hide-and-seek. So, we’ll just be late. And for that, I am sorry.

RELATED: I’m Not Stuck Up, I’m Just Socially Exhausted

We’ve all been there. If you are a mom and you are reading this, I bet you are nodding along like, “Yep, Johnny lost his mind yesterday because I put red socks on him and he wanted the blue ones.” Poor Johnny. Poor Mommy. Poor friend sitting at Applebee’s on her second sangria and half-eaten plate of nachos.

But hey, we’re all in this together, right? Your understanding means more than you know to your friend with the children.

Your smile, your “no worries” after the 10th “I’m running late” text, your genuine interest in our kids . . . we appreciate it. We appreciate you. 

Nobody was pulling your chain when they said it takes a village to raise childrenit truly does. And once we as moms embrace this phrase, life becomes a little bit easier. And, sometimes, the village means children-less friends.

Which is whywhen your gal pal shows up with her hair in a ponytail from yesterday, assorted children clutching her arms and legs, and a Disney backpack slung around her shoulder bumping into people as she walks—you should smile. Wave. Take a child from her, let a child know where the bathroom is when they sit down, and for goodness sake, order a drink for her before she arrives. Don’t ask her, just do it. She needs it. I can guarantee you she’s argued with at least one smaller version of herself that day about why we need to flush the toilet or wear pants outside. Order the drink for her and another for yourself because congratulations, you are part of her wonderful, sometimes insane, often chaotic, village.

RELATED: Make Room For Mom Friends in Your Life, You Need Them More Than You Know

And cheers, because there isn’t a village that’s better.

Previously published on the author’s blog

This book is a serious game-changer for motherhood. We can’t put it down! Don’t have time to sit and read? Listen to it here, on Audible.

Recommendations in this post contain affiliate links. Her View From Home may receive a small commission if you choose to purchase.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available for pre-order now!

Pre-Order Now

Lindsey Carver

My name is Lindsey & I live on the Jersey Shore with my patient husband, our two snack-mongering kiddos and our 100 pound lapdog. I've been writing since I could hold a pencil and my first publication was in fifth grade on a story about a dog named Pepsi who was abducted by aliens. More notably, in addition to free-lance writing for Her View From Home, I free-lance for Her Ponderer and have had several short stories publishd with online literary magazines. I am querying an agent for my debut novel, JULIET WAS WRONG. I can be found on Instagram @lmcarverwrites. 

Yes, We Wanted a Big Family

In: Kids, Motherhood
Big family silhouette

Baby number WHAT?!?! Okay, okay, I know having FIVE children in the modern world is a bit of an anomaly, but the responses we have gotten from sharing our joyful (to us!) news has been a bit over-the-top. You see, my husband and I always dreamt of a big family, verbally expressing four to five children as our ultimate number. After having three, I must say I had to do some convincing to keep going, as my husband felt our hands were pretty full. I do agree our hands were pretty full, but I still felt our hearts could handle...

Keep Reading

How Much Longer Will I Watch Them Play?

In: Kids, Motherhood, Tween
Two boys at indoor playground, color photo

As I sit here watching my two boys running around on the bright-colored foam mats, sliding down the bright red and green slides that end up in a ball pit full of giggles, I can’t help but wonder how much longer I will enjoy this sight. They’re both growing up so fast—T-shirts with their favorite characters have been replaced by plain colors.  Curtains with Paw Patrol now invite an “Eww, cringe!” reaction. Slowly their boy bedroom decor has been updated to reflect the cool gamers they so want to be. RELATED: He’s a Boy For Just a Little While Longer No...

Keep Reading

God Gave Him Bigger Feelings

In: Kids, Motherhood
Little boy on playground, color photo

He came home from school last week and asked, “Why do I get so angry but my friends never do? Why am I not the same?” And it broke me. Because he is passionate and intelligent and kind and intuitive and beautiful. He didn’t always seem different. We never paid attention to how he would line everything up in play. And we would laugh it off as a quirk when he would organize everything dependent upon shape, size, and color. He was stubborn, sure, but so am I. And then COVID happened, and we attributed the lack of social skills...

Keep Reading

We Have a Big Family and Wouldn’t Change a Thing

In: Kids, Motherhood
Four children in front of Christmas tree, color photo

I have just had my fourth baby. A baby who wasn’t expected but very much wanted and very much loved from the moment we found out. When we told people we were expecting, the response was underwhelming. The stream of intrusive questions would then ensue:  You already have your hands full, how will you cope with four? You’ll need a bigger car! Where will they all sleep? Don’t you own a TV? You know how babies are made right? People seemed to have such a strong opinion about me having a fourth child. RELATED: We Had a Lot of Kids...

Keep Reading

As a Mom I’m Far From Perfect, But I Hope You Remember the Joy

In: Kids, Motherhood
Happy mother and daughter on the beach

Sometimes, I think about the future when you are grown and I am gone. When all that’s left of me are photographs and memories. I know what the photographs will show. I took most of them, after all. But the memories I’m less sure of. I wonder what will stick with you after all that time. How will you remember me? One day, your grandkids will ask you about me. What will you say? Will you tell them I was always distracted? Will you remember that I looked at my phone too much? Will you tell them I didn’t play...

Keep Reading

Being a Daycare Mom Can Be So Hard

In: Kids, Living, Motherhood
Woman holding boy on couch, black-and-white photo

Dear daycare mom,  I know it’s hard.  To get yourself up before them, to make lunches, to pack the bags, to get yourself ready.  To go into their rooms, where they are peacefully sleeping, and turn the lights on.  To struggle to get them breakfast, get them dressed, and get them out the door.  I know it’s hard.  To have a morning rush when all you want to do is snuggle up on the couch and ease into your day.  RELATED: When a Mom is Late To Work To feel like you are missing out on their childhood at times...

Keep Reading

The PB&J that Saved the Day

In: Kids, Motherhood
Table with three plates of PB&J sandwiches, color photo

It was one of those days.  One of those days when your pants are too tight, you wake up with a headache, and the kids’ rooms are disasters at 8 a.m. It was one of those days when I had to physically go into Target for our groceries since I didn’t have time to wait for pickup—I think that alone should sum up exactly the kind of day it was.  The kids were hangry. The toddler was, well, toddler-y. RELATED: Toddlers Are Human Too—And Sometimes They Just Need Grace Two minutes into our shopping trip, she had kicked her light-up rain...

Keep Reading

One Day He’ll Love Another Woman More than He Loves Me

In: Kids, Motherhood
Mother holding baby, color photo

To Benjamin, my 16-month-old son, I am everything. I am the first person that boy looks for when he wakes up in the morning and the last person he wants before he goes to bed. If he is in a room full of people he loves and I am not there, he will search for me.  If he has a problem, mommy is the solution. I am the answer to his cries. I feel confident in saying that I am the most important person in that little boy’s little world. I love it. It is an honor and a privilege...

Keep Reading

To My Sister, Thank You For Being the Best Aunt To My Kids

In: Kids, Motherhood
Aunt with three young kids

“Do you have the kids’ basketball schedule yet?” you texted the other day. I sent back a screenshot of the calendar, and within an hour you responded telling me which game you’d be coming to. It was a simple exchange, but I was overwhelmed with gratitude for your love for my kids in that moment. It’s something I think often but don’t say nearly enough: thank you for being such an amazing aunt. Truly.  I know it’s not always convenient. You live three hours away and have a busy, full life of your own—but still, you show up for your niece and nephews...

Keep Reading

In Defense of the Stubborn Child

In: Kids, Motherhood
Little boy hanging over dock, color photo

“Lamp. Lamp. Laaaaamp,” my 2-year-old son screamed while stomping his feet. Tears were running down his face and snot was dripping dangerously close to his mouth. I put on what I hoped would be a soothing, motherly tone, “Okay, just calm down.” While trying to maintain eye contact, I slowly reached toward the tissue box. This must be what the greats like Jeff Corwin, Steve Irwin, or the Kratt brothers feel like when facing a volatile animal in the wild. The sound of a tissue being pulled from the box caused the crying to stop abruptly. His eyes flitted toward...

Keep Reading