A Gift for Mom! 🤍

Last night’s This Is Us pulled some major heartstrings for moms and dads alike. As a mom, I don’t know a counterpart out there who doesn’t second-guess her mothering abilities and wonder if she is doing enough to nurture and love her kids. When it comes to our failures, whether colossal or minor, many of us lay awake and steep in regret for nights on end.

Mom guilt is palpable, our insecurities are rampant, and our desire to do all the things for our kiddos (at a gold standard no less) is fierce. But pawning for perfection is a futile exercise. Some days we’re just going to blow it. Big time. We’re going to fly off the handle, cave to exhaustion, and/or sink into depression among a cadre of other not so great reactions. If I’ve learned anything over 25 years of parenting, the key to pushing through our disappointments and dismay is to focus on all the things we do right. Mainly, all the love we give.

If we force ourselves to look beyond our worst moments and into the vastness of our mothering in its entirety, we’re bound to find hope in the collective uprush of our affection and adoration despite the downrush of our weaknesses and human faltering. We can count on love because love defies gravity.

Last night, Randall reminded us of the importance of having such a hope-filled mindset. While visiting his childhood home with Kate, they both reminisced about a particular day shared with their dad, Jack, when they were 11 years old. Jack was in emotional turmoil over a fallout with his brother and didn’t have the strength or mental energy to play the father role with Randall and Kate. I can’t count how many times I’ve been in his shoes.

As the day went on with Jack attempting to battle his demons, he eventually caved to his suffering and snapped at Kate for the mess she and Randall made all over the living room floor. After walking away in anger, Jack became unhinged completely and shattered a plate against the kitchen wall. The scene was powerful and lit up a movie reel in my mind that projected similar scenarios I’ve experienced over the years. My heart felt heavy for Jack, and his kids as all three of them stood stunned in the kitchen, their insides full of hurt and confusion.

How often do we find ourselves in these situations as moms? When life becomes too much to process, and the overload takes the legs of self-control right out from under us? As much as we long to be prepared for anything and everything, to have the emotional wherewithal to remain calm and collected, sometimes the agonies, hardships, and frustrations of life unravel the best of us. Being human is complicated regardless of our best intentions.

Jack came back around and apologized to Kate and Randall for yelling and losing his cool. He diffused the heaviness by catching the kids off-guard and starting a sequins fight. He was showing Randall and Kate that his earlier anger wasn’t about them—it was about him. His willingness to create his own mess on the same living room floor affirmed that his love for them far outweighed any disappointment.

As adult Kate and Randall discussed the infamous day further, Kate questioned whether she was misremembering the event. Her memory was of the happiness and joy surrounding the sequins fight, while Randall remembered their dad yelling at Kate and breaking a plate. Randall was quick to point out to Kate the kind of hope that echoes in all our hearts as parents:

“(Our contrasting memories) means Dad did a good job. You remember the good stuff. We’ve all had bad days as parents. I’ve had some doozies. You will, too. All you can do as a parent is try to pack the days with as much good stuff as possible and hope it outweighs the bad. You hope that the good stuff sticks. That’s what Dad did for us.”

Oh, do we ever hope the good stuff sticks. And it will if love paves the way. It’s always been my hope and prayer that all the good I’ve done as a mom seeped into my kids’ veins, even if a few of their arteries were clogged by my failures along the way.

One thing I know for sure is that I did my best, even at my worst. Doing our best means we loved. And if we love, we can’t fail our kids. Love always sticks.

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Shelby Spear

A self-described sappy soul whisperer, sarcasm aficionado, and love enthusiast, Shelby is a mom of 3 Millennials writing about motherhood and life from her empty nest. She is the co-author of the book, How Are You Feeling, Momma? (You don't need to say, "I'm fine.") , and you can find her stories in print at Guideposts, around the web at sites like Her View From Home, For Every Mom, Parenting Teens & Tweens and on her blog shelbyspear.com.

I Finally Admitted I Didn’t Want To Be a SAHM Anymore

In: Motherhood
Mother and child silhouette

For most of my life, I believed becoming a stay-at-home mom wasn’t just a choice, it was the ultimate goal. The kind of life a “good” woman was meant to want. The kind of life that meant you were doing things right. I grew up surrounded by that message. In conservative spaces, in church circles, in subtle conversations about what a “real” mother looked like. Women who stayed home were praised. Women who didn’t were quietly questioned. I learned, without ever being directly told, that a mother’s highest purpose was to center her entire world around her children and her...

Keep Reading

I’m Not Really Sure How To Do This Teenager Thing

In: Motherhood, Teen
Teenager on phone

I was not prepared to be a mother of teenagers. Sure, I was warned by other parents about the difficult journey I was about to embark on, but I did not expect it to be this challenging. I remember these two sweet, innocent children who wanted to be with me all the time. Now they barely give me the time of day. How did we get here? Like many parents, we long to have that child who once, a long time ago, called us Mommy and Daddy and begged us to read them another story. Where are those kids I...

Keep Reading

Why Don’t We Talk About Jonah’s Mother?

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood
Woman standing over water

Praying for My Son Send a storm to stop him; Let his friends throw him out. May he drop to the deeps, But gently, please, Stubborn though he may be. If it could only take three days, How my mother’s heart would Rejoice in praise.  From the hell you allow him, Let him cry to you. Is not Nineveh and mercy Exactly what he knows He needs— A mercy on enemies He fears You will concede? Please let all the shade wither If his is an angry soul; Humble him and help him follow Where you would have his purpose...

Keep Reading

To the Mom Worrying She’s Not Doing Enough This Summer

In: Motherhood
Kids looking at lake in summer

It’s only the second week of summer, and, thanks to modern-day social media, I feel like I’ve already seen it all. Picture-perfect beach getaways, color-coded bucket lists, backyard neighborhood movie nights, you name it. And if I’m being honest, I’ve already caught myself wondering if I’m doing enough. More than once, at that. As a solo mom of two, I’m still adjusting to our new norm while trying desperately to delicately let go of any expectations tied to all of our past experiences…including summer vacations. I’m reminding myself that our summers won’t look like they used to. At least not...

Keep Reading

Your Worth As a Mother Is Not Defined By How You Feed Your Baby

In: Baby, Motherhood
Mother and baby stand by crib

I’m not breastfeeding my baby. I wanted to. And I was able to for the first several weeks of her life. But as the days went on, I could tell it wasn’t enough for her anymore, so we started supplementing. And sure enough, without warning, she began screaming through nursing sessions, but was satisfied with a bottle. And that’s when I knew what I needed to do. A similar situation also happened with my first. She didn’t gain her birth weight back on my milk alone, so I had no choice but to supplement right away. And before I knew...

Keep Reading

A Mother’s Love Doesn’t End When Her Kids Move Out

In: Motherhood
Family posing in Time Square

When my last sibling moved out of the house, I watched my mom struggle in a quiet, almost unspoken way. It wasn’t something dramatic or visible; it was something I could feel in her presence. For 40 years, her life had revolved around taking care of us—my siblings and me. Every season of her life had been shaped around our needs, our schedules, our milestones, and our growing up. Being a mom wasn’t just something she did. It was who she was—the structure of her days, the cadence of her thoughts, and the center of her purpose. So when the...

Keep Reading

The Hardest Part of Divorce Is Being Away from My Kids

In: Living, Marriage, Motherhood
Woman in driver's seat

I’ve written several times about how divorce has allowed me to find myself again, and how that version is even better than the one I was before I was married. All of that is still true. I am happier than I’ve ever been. More confident and sure of myself. I understand my emotions and how to handle myself when things get tough or scary. I am more grounded and calm than I’ve ever been. Truly, I have come out on top. I’ve received comments about how happy I look, how I’m “living my best life with kids only half the...

Keep Reading

I May Let Go of the Baby Things, but I’ll Hold the Memories Forever

In: Baby, Motherhood
Woman looking through closet of baby items

It’s easy to think of multiple sayings and mottos about how invaluable earthly possessions are. “It’s not what you have, but who you share it with” “Worry less about things and more about experiences” “Who cares what you have, you can’t take it with you when you go” And trust me, I know these to be true. I am not a hoarder of hotel pens or mini shampoo bottles or every receipt and coaster from my favorite restaurants. I don’t care much for name-brand shoes or designer purses, yet there are a few things I just can’t easily let go...

Keep Reading

Mom Showed Us Love that Lasts

In: Motherhood
Vintage photo of mother and three young kids

We moved a few years ago, and we had a closet that needed some reworking. In doing so, my husband found some old photos. He pulled out an album that held this vintage photo of my mom, my sisters, and me. It was probably circa 1983 when prints were made from Kodak. I actually don’t remember seeing the photo before. But I love it. In the photo, my mother’s eyes are shut with a blink because those were the days when blinks weren’t edited. It’s beautiful, and I can’t stop thinking about the captured connection. She was showing us something...

Keep Reading

This Is How I’m Raising My Sensitive Son

In: Motherhood
Little boy hugs a cat

When I was pregnant with my son, everyone warned me of what was to come. “Just you wait,” they’d say with an underlying schadenfreude, “you’ll never sleep again.” I fully expected sleep-deprived days and long, unrelenting nights, calming my son down from tantrums, trying to keep the peace with my marriage. But I got lucky—my son sleeps through the night, doesn’t throw tantrums, and my marriage is stronger than ever. I didn’t expect that, especially because I struggle with my own mental health and assumed I’d be in the weeds during my postpartum period. Now that my son is almost...

Keep Reading