The expectations I brought to marriage and motherhood were shattered when the reality of living out this vocation kicked in. I’m not prone to anger, I’m prone to full blown rage. Can I blame it on my temperament? Can I blame it on a messy house? Can I blame it on more month than money? Yes, but, only for a moment. I’m scared to see myself this way.
My triggers? The demands of three young children are overwhelming. You need a doctor, nurse, educator, guidance counselor, negotiator, butt wiper, entertainer, cleaning lady, cook, psychologist, handy man, launderer, chauffeur, referee, baby whisperer? I’m your woman. And I work for free! Yet, the cost has become quite clear. I cannot remember the woman who so yearned for a spouse and children. She is lost.
Everyone has a reboot button. I’ve finally realized I need a push. The plan of action starts with sleep. Sleep deprivation is used on prisoners of war as a form of torture. I’ve been a POW for over four years. Next, forgive and move on. Try to forgive myself. Self flagellation is exhausting. Forgive my family. My children didn’t ask to be brought into this world. My husband and I made the decision to space our children close in age. How lucky are we that they are here and healthy! Forgive my husband. His intention every day is to love his family – not to make me crazy. Take time to think, read, and pray. Socialize when I am able to string together sentences.
Understandably, the statement I made at the mother’s group must have sounded cruel towards my feelings for my family. I love my family. They are my “pearls of great price”. I don’t want to crush them, I want to serve them with virtues they carry on their own journey. They are the building blocks to my salvation because profound joy comes with putting them before me with a spirit of generosity.