Idealizing Motherhood

This week I was reminiscing, back to days in my late teens and early twenties. I would rise early, way before my 8 AM class just so I could try to be first to the quiet study room on the dorm hall– to sit read the Word, then study for any exams I had coming up. Back then, I had a really long streak of never missing a day of this (yes I kept track…what a weirdo).

There was time. Back then, there was time.

Fast forward a few years, and my surroundings looked different. Give me a few years more and my surroundings looked WAY different.

Marriage and kids and jobs and illnesses and staying home and dishes and laundry and no time, drowned time, saturated time…I don’t know how people do it all, or do they just let things fall off?

I feel like I have gone through seasons where I did nothing well- not my parenting, my partnership, my housekeeping, meals, budgeting, exercise, Bible study.

Early on in marriage– before I had any kids, I knew (personally, in real life, actually knew) moms who seemed to do it all. And not only do it all, but do it all and maintain sanity and peace.

I wondered how they did that. And after having four kids, I’ve wondered this even more. Were they faking it? Taking a super supplement? Maybe they were just giving themselves more margin than I gave them credit for. I don’t know because they didn’t ever share that with me, and I didn’t ask. Maybe because I didn’t know to ask, or how to ask. I had the opportunity to ask, I just didn’t know I had the need. I would ask now.

I would ask:

How is your house so clean?
AND you made bread today?
And took your two/four/five/seven kids to all their things?
And you’re at church tonight?
How?
How do you not look like you just ran a marathon?
How are you smiling and also how are you not breathing hard?
How are you not sweating?
Where is your coffee?

I would also ask if someone could show me to the ponytailed mom who is still in her pajamas and has a sink full of dishes and a house that hasn’t been cleaned in … some time. Because I need to see that mom. I need to ask her questions. No. I need to make some statements to her. Statements like:

Be my friend.
Let’s hug.
Thank you.
Let’s get coffee.

I know the Sunday School answer to the “how do you do it all and not go insane” line of questioning would say mamas do it all and do it all with grace and peace because of Jesus. I believe that. I believe we don’t (I don’t) turn to Him nearly as much as I should, and my marriage and motherhood suffers for it. It is not news anyone needs to break to me that if I am not seeking the Lord, I have less joy in my motherhood.

I also know we as Christians sometimes offer that kind of sentiment isolated and without any practical advice or sympathy. And that can make people feel like trash and unloved. And silently asking COULD YOU PLEASE HELP ME, HOW DO I DO THIS?

For all I know, those women I watched during my early married years may have been stressing inside (I don’t think they were! But I don’t know– I never asked!) and not had a safe place to say, man… I am feeling very overwhelmed right now.

And from my side of things, everything looked really rosy on their side of things. And I hope it was. And probably most of the time it was.

But. As I’ve had more kids, or gotten older, or maybe it’s both, I have experienced something glorious–
transparency in friends new and old.

The moms I looked up to when I was a newlywed without children are still moms I look up to—but I didn’t know exactly what to ask or even observe when I was in my early twenties, no kids, and life was pretty much easy and we lived on a song for our groceries, car payments, and health insurance.  I had lots of time not only to read my Bible but also to cover my entire kitchen with homemade fettuccini noodles. Things change.

Today, I have friends from all different points in my life who have been clear about setting a big enough margin, or when and why they need to say no, or given solidarity when I have felt overwhelmed by the small things in life.

I have friends who openly share the struggles they have with their own children, who aren’t afraid to talk about not wanting to mess our kids up or lead them astray, about navigating the Gospel at home, about struggles in marriage, about sticking to a budget or failing to stick to a budget.

Friends who have corrected me when I am wrong, but have continued to love me.

And I look up to all of those women, as they are struggling, striving, and as they are pointing me to Jesus and taking (making) the time to seek to know, follow, and glorify Him. And they’re not afraid to be open books when they totally screw up. We don’t even always agree on things- big things like raising kids, health related decisions, money decisions, politics,

and it just doesn’t matter.

The openness, the transparency…I feel like a real mess of a mother most days, but I know I am not ALONE, because people have been willing to say
I DEAL WITH THIS TOO.
Or I HAVE BEEN THERE. HERE IS WHAT I DID TO GET PAST IT or WHAT JESUS DID TO BRING ME OUT.
Or IT’S GONNA PASS.
Or HERE. I AM BRINGING YOU THIS COFFEE.
Or OH. YOU HAD A CRAP DAY? LOOK AT ME HANDING YOU THIS PACKAGE OF CHOCOLATE TO EAT ON YOUR WAY HOME FROM MY DRIVEWAY.
Or OH YOU NEED TO LEAVE ME A FIFTEEN MINUTE VOXER, AND I WILL PLAY THE WHOLE DANG THING BECAUSE I LOVE YOU AND I WILL NEED TO SEND YOU ONE MYSELF NEXT WEEK ANYWAY WHEN MY HOUSE NEEDS EXPENSIVE REPAIRS AND MY CAR DECIDES TO JOIN IN ON THAT AND OH THEN MY KID GETS STREP THROAT TOO.

These are my people – and be clear on this, some of them I don’t even know that well. I’m not talking about a group of friends who get together every week or month or year.

I’m not even talking about a group of friends who all know each other. I’m not talking about a group of people who even live in the same state (or country!)

Some know me really well and some of us are just getting to know each other.

These women, they lift me up even though some days they’re right there low with me. They point me to Jesus. They remind me I am not alone—He is with me, and they are beside me.

I gleaned a lot from those older women in my earlier years as a wife and mother. I appreciate so much of what I learned.

I would ask better questions now. Or at least more questions now.

If I could go back, I would try not to idealize motherhood—because I saw it idealistically even amongst those moms. And maybe it was for them! And motherhood is sweet and is great and is a gift. But it is also hard. And I took away a picture that wasn’t what became reality for me. What is real for me:

Dirty walls, kids who sometimes hit each other, lots of tears some days, theirs and or mine, kids who sometimes lie or do a halfway job at something, days I need to leave as soon as my husband gets home from work just to breathe for a minute or sixty, loss of organization/schedule and not realizing it for years, then fighting to get it back, feeling futile most days.

This is not a message without Hope. The Hope is in the honesty. The Hope is in Jesus sending me imperfect friends and mentors and safe places I can be honest about struggles and be met with understanding, commiseration, but also truth spoken into my life.

I would love to rewind and ask those sage women from 17 years ago in my life some of the questions I have now. And ask them if they were doing okay. If they were overwhelmed.

Maybe they had it all figured out. But if I were a betting woman, I’d be willing to wager they didn’t, and might just have some really great advice on getting through the trying days, if they knew it was safe to tell me things weren’t perfect for them either.

Things aren’t perfect at my house. Not even close. If you didn’t know that, you’ve probably never been here. Come over sometime.

I might be yelling at a kid, or I might call you the wrong name, or we might be eating something really ridiculous and random for dinner because I just didn’t manage to cook dinner that night.

We don’t have to brag or take pride in our failures. It isn’t a badge of honor that some days suck or we mess up—I’m not saying that. But some days suck and we do mess up—and I hope you have friends and mentors who let you be imperfect, who are willing to be imperfect in front of you, and who continue to point you to Jesus.

It’s okay to struggle, but how encouraged I am to know I have a place to turn—and I’m not talking about my transparent friends. I’m talking about Jesus, with his patience, and his steadfast love, and the kindness he has shown me in the women he has brought into my life in this season. 

So if you’re right there with me—maybe your kid told you were kinda ugly today (you’re not. I’m just speaking from actual experience here), or a brother made another brother cry, or you can’t remember the last time you mopped your floors… this space is a safe place to share that. So…here’s my hand, raised in solidarity, to you. Love you, and please know, you aren’t alone.

© 2020 Alisha H. Cary