Have you ever wondered how one so little can make you feel like an utter failure sometimes? Case in point – I introduce to you the source of my current “lessons in humility (and futility).”
|So tiny…so helpless…so needy…|
This little guy has been my personal trainer in all things related to character honing and humility strengthening. It’s been quite a workout with many nights I wondered whether I truly am doing a good job or I’m one of THOSE moms who can’t get their act together and is untrustworthy to have a tiny being dependent on her. I’ve been reduced to a puddle of “I am SCUM!” time and time again, thanks to him.
So when a friend asked me the following question…
I had to hesitate a moment…to really consider that question.
Now, if you have been following this blog for any amount of time, you are probably pretty shocked to read that I hesitated in answering that question…and be completely floored by my answer to the question.
Save your time and energies with your comments of disdain, telling me how selfish and unworthy I am to be a mom. You’re right…I’m completely selfish. I hate stepping out of my comfort zone and doing things that I would rather avoid. I give very little effort towards such things. I don’t deserve such an honor of being called “mom.” I was stupid to have gone through such an arduous process of conception (complete with tears and heartache) and suffered through the pregnancy with such anticipation, only to regret I am the very thing I wanted to become.
But to lie about it wouldn’t benefit anyone. And (hopefully) to speak the truth would validate the feelings of so many other mommies out there who feel so alone because they feel the same as I do about motherhood.
I don’t love the sleeplessness. I don’t love the early mornings. I don’t love the poopy/wet diapers. I don’t love getting every bug he picks up because I’m the one who is usually closest to him. I don’t love having my schedule dictated by his feeding schedule (which is still “on demand” at 16 weeks). I don’t love the inability to enjoy time alone with my hubby. I don’t love being unable to keep my home orderly and stay on top of the laundry. I don’t love feeling inadequate. I don’t love feeling like a failure again and again. I don’t love being a mom…because of the things I have to deal with while being a mom.
|Not always so happy-go-lucky…|
It’s the oddest feeling. No matter what he does…smile, frown, giggle, cry, hug, punch, grasp my finger, scratch my arm…I’m completely enamored by this little creature. I melt with every smile, my heart breaks at every cry, and I laugh at each and every silly thing he does.
So when I responded with “No, I don’t like being a mom,” I was easily able to add…
I’m sure if he had been a different baby, as long as he was mine, I would be able to love him. But I also know that God created him to be exactly the way he is knowing He was giving me a baby that I would love so much I would CHOOSE to put aside my own selfish desires to be a mom. It’s just another round of honing and sanding down the rough edges of my heart, soul, and personality. He just happened to make this particular sandpaper a bit more coarse, but a LOT more lovable. Drooly…but lovable.
It reminds me of a passage in Isaiah…
|SO. STINKIN’. CUTE. PERIOD!|
|How can you NOT love being “mom” to this guy??|