I initially started this blog because I don't scrapbook and yet I wanted to keep the memories we are creating as a family. My posts are usually positive & light-hearted. But there's an entirely different side of memories that I don't blog about. Frankly, I'm ashamed because they are dark and who wants to relive the darkness.
I am a mother. More specifically, Monday through Friday I spend 11 nonstop waking hours parenting two toddlers all on my own. And during the course of that 11-hour day, I screw up royally and often.
And though the screw-ups sometimes outweigh the parenting successes, I don't blog about them.
I didn't blog about the times I screamed so loudly at my kids that I'm certain my neighbors heard me.
Or the time I chucked the kids' beloved truck out the back door because I could no longer tolerate the fighting.
Or the time I cupped my son's face so tightly that I couldn't stop staring at his cheeks for fear I had left a mark.
Or the time I let my daughter throw her body on the floor, wailing because I wouldn't pick her up, because I was too flustered in my attempt to make dinner.
Or the times I pushed my kids away as they crawled into my lap to read a book because I was too engrossed in an email or worse yet, facebook.
Or the times I have physically walked out the front door because I was certain that if I heard one more child cry, I would surely lose it.
If it sucks for you to read my failures, trust me, it really sucks for me to type them. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks.
Just yesterday I pulled my kids into my lap and apologized profusely for losing my temper. Sweet Henry looked at me and said, "Temper? It's lost? Is it on your back? Where did it go, mommy?" I nearly cried at his innocence and yet I wanted so badly for him to understand that I was sorry.
He'll get it eventually. It certainly won't be the last apology he hears from me.
And fortunately for me, I have Jesus.
Seriously, truly, I don't know how to do this job without Jesus. Every minute of everyday I get to start fresh. Last night, after a rough day, I went for a jog (Thank you, Matt, for allowing me that time. You are such a gift to me.) As the sun went down, in 20 degrees along ice-covered sidewalks, I was overwhelmed with emotions knowing that my God will restore all the crap that I create as a mother. He adores my kids even more than I do (how is that even possible?) and when I screw up and act like a lunatic, the Lord fills my home with grace and mercy, blessing each of us amidst the mess of our lives.
I am so far from a perfect mother. And yet God knows that I am the best mother for Henry and Harper. And so when I fail and fail and fail, God forgives me and renews my soul so that I can turn around and show my children love even when I would rather crawl into a hole covered in shame.
Henry & Harper, there are not enough words to tell you how much you two mean to me, and there will never be enough I'm sorry's to make up for all the mistakes I made, am making, and will make.
And thank you Jesus. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Thank you.
