Before my oldest daughter was born, my expectations of myself as a Mama were as large and grandiose as my swollen belly.
I imagined that I’d be so many things:
Patient always.
Kind always.
Tender-hearted always.
I didn’t know just how hard “always ” is to obtain. And even now, four children in, I still find myself striving for something far from my grasp.
Just the other night, I woke with a sadness that literally threatened to crush me.
I’m not those things to my littles. At least not always and that truth hurts. It’s usually in the darkness of night that I am most critical of myself. Maybe because that is when the house falls silent and thoughts finally regain a voice. Positive or negative. They are there and I’m confronted with my own humanity.
I want to be more… but I simply can not be everything.
As the sun rises and the house awakens with the sound of children’s voices and early morning busyness, I have two choices:
I can let these whimsical and unrealistic expectations of myself overcome and overwhelm me and who I am as my children’s mother.
Or.
And this is much harder to do…
I can rise above these thoughts with each and every moment given, with grace and understanding.
I’m not always patient. Or kind. Or tender-hearted.
But I do try. I’m quick to apologize when I’m not. I’ve lost count of the times where I’ve knelt down before one of my children, took them into my arms and asked for forgiveness for a harsh word spoken or an unfair judgment.
As mamas, we need to be patient and kind and tender-hearted towards ourselves. Sometimes that means laughing at our faux pas and not letting our shortcomings get us down.
Our children are watching. It’s true that they see us fail, but they know us by our reactions. They are learning.
So rise sweet mamas, embrace your imperfections and be thankful for each new day to live and love large. Silence those whispers that wake you in the night.
You aren’t a perfect Mama.
But you sure are a good one.
