Dear Weary Mom,
I’m posting this around 7:00 in the morning, and if you’re reading this you’re already tired. Come to think of it, whatever time of day it is where you are, you’re tired.
You may have woken up this morning and before your feet ever hit the ground thought, “Man…I’m tired.” You might be sipping your fourth cup of coffee in less than an hour and find yourself thinking, “Man…I’m tired.” Or you might be headed to bed after a long day with a sigh on your lips and in your heart as the realization that another day exactly like the one that just ended begins in fewer hours than it really takes your body to get rested.
Man…you’re tired.
I know this because I’m one of you. A weary mom dug down deep in the trenches of raising the two people I’m blessed to call mine. Just last night my littlest boy arrived in my bed around 2:00 a.m. trembling from a bad dream and spent most of the night pressed up against me, kicking me in the back.
It all sounds sweet except I didn’t sleep a wink. And now I’m—you guessed it—tired. I’ve found, though, that the weariness of motherhood is about much more than just a lack of sleep. It’s a weariness that’s kind of like holding a mirror up in front of all my ugly. Some days, motherhood brings out the worst in me. But I’m learning that’s okay.
Surprise, surprise.
Motherhood kind of took me by surprise. You too? Yeah, I hear that from a lot of moms I know who thought they had it all figured out before their own kids came. When my first son was born I had a terrible time nursing him, and it turned into the first of many, many things that just didn’t come easily to me as a mom. I remember being so angry with God because He wouldn’t change my situation and make things easier.
Anger.
An ugly word, isn’t it? But I found it in my heart, and as we all know, what’s in the heart comes out of the mouth (Matthew 12:34). Oh, weary mama, I’m honestly a bit ashamed of how many times I’ve been angry over the last seven years of my life. On the outside, I’m a grown woman who has her life together. I have a nice house, a hunky husband, and two seriously beautiful, talented little boys. But on the inside, I’m a two-year-old stamping her foot and screaming because she can’t get her own way.
All I want is for my boys to obey me. And to be quiet. And to stop wrestling all. the. time. And to put their toys away. And to stop goofing off at the table. And to stop spilling their drinks. And to stop wrinkling their noses at the dinners I work hard to fix for them. And to focus on their schoolwork. And to stop fighting with each other. And to be quiet (did I already say that??).
Do you find yourself nodding your head? Sighing deeply because you kinda know what I mean?
Yep, weary mama, motherhood brings out the very worst in me. But after seven years of battling, I’ve finally come to this:
I’m glad.
Lord, have mercy…what if all that junk had stayed inside of me all those years? What if my inner two-year-old with cute pigtails that bounce when she stamps her foot had been allowed to grow up into an intolerable woman with frizzy hair that didn’t look cute anymore?
Gives me the shivers.
I’ve known one too many women who were never called out on their inner two-year-old. It isn’t pretty, so yeah, weary mama, I’m saying it loud today…I’m GLAD my kids bring out all my ugly. I’m GLAD they keep me on my knees in prayer, asking, begging God to make me more like Him so I can be the kind of mom they really need.
So bring it, whiney two-year-old me. I know your game. And sooner or later you’re going to run out of steam, because I’ve got all the power of heaven on my side, and I’m determined to lay you down over and over and over again until you’re gone once and for all.
So there (sticks out tongue).
Now, where’s my coffee…
Brooke
Coauthor of Hope for the Weary Mom
Coming from Harvest House Publishers February 2015
P.S. In just two months, Brooke McGlothlin and Stacey Thacker will be launching their #ChooseHope campaign. To learn more, and enter to a beautiful cuff bracelet like this one, click here.”
Amy says
September 25, 2014 at 9:25 amNeeded that today!! thanks
BMcGlothlin says
September 26, 2014 at 6:37 amThanks for stopping by!
Amy Tilson says
September 25, 2014 at 9:57 amLove it! Gotta kick those whiney selves to the curb sometimes, don’t we?
BMcGlothlin says
September 26, 2014 at 6:37 amSlam the door in their face 😉
MsLorretty says
September 25, 2014 at 11:53 pmOh seriously. I do wish to goodness I’d know about an internet and the blogosphere and these voices out here when I was going through this stage of my life. Because I was all of this and more. So Brooke. Yes. Thank you for being the brave momma of today to let them all know how it’s going to be OK. Bless it.
BMcGlothlin says
September 26, 2014 at 6:36 amI love it when people say “bless it” 🙂 So glad you were encouraged!
Kara says
September 26, 2014 at 1:52 pmI LOVE this and I so needed that today! Thank you!
elaine says
October 1, 2014 at 11:38 pmoh my, I don’t think I have ever been this tired and I sometimes wonder if I ever will be anything I was before I had children. AND yes, they bring out the worse in me – I have been challenged far far more than ever imagined – but God’s grace is bigger than this !!! Glad I am not alone and someone is brave enough to say this motherhood thing is not always as ‘fantastic’ as some claim it is or should be.
Shelly says
October 2, 2014 at 11:55 amI thought the weary would wear off as the teenies turned into teens, nope, it’s a new kind of weary and yea, I’m on my fourth cup of coffee. Oh how I have tantrumed and shaken my fist at God. And tantrumed and not loved right where they are, for who they are, because God didn’t give me….
An easy pregnancy, birthing experience, nursing experience, bonding experience, pre-school “niceities”, kids with whom learning comes easy….
There’s a gap between the kids I thought I’d have and the kids I’ve been blessed to have. I’m reminded daily, if not hourly, that I’m not enough. And that I have to spend way more time on my knees that I’d like to admit to. I say it often and out loud, I can’t do this, I’m not equipped to be their mother and as the years roll on into decades, maybe I’m not supposed to be.
Trying to stop the tantrum myself and learn to embrace my ugly and their teenage boy madness and the weary all at the same time… always clutching the coffee mug.
I think when Solomon wrote, Iron Sharpens Iron, he had teenagers in mind….