Are You a Glass Half Empty Mama?

This has been one of those weeks. Full to the brim with appointments, errands and the to-do list. I’ve also been sleeping…well...not sleeping is what I have mostly been doing. A great way for this pregnancy to announce the arrival of the beloved third trimester!

My sweet girl is all energy and curiosity. Curious George is not a monkey by the way. He is a toddler that looks like a monkey. I’m almost certain he is teaching our littles to be terrorists. It is monkey speak or code only preschoolers understand for “Destroy, destroy, destroy!”

I have been frustrated, in love, beside myself with wonder, unreasonably angry and at my wits end all in the course of 10 minutes this week. I’ve thrown tantrums over her tantrums and I’ve not always been the best version of myself.

There is temptation to think all of our missteps in parenting are what will have the greatest affect.

If that is the case then my girl will undoubtedly grow up to eat only sugar, watch too much t.v., cuss like a sailor and never ever ever match her clothes. What I mean to say is…

We are all too often glass half empty mamas.

The youngest isn’t sleeping well. The oldest had another note requesting a parent-teacher conference sent home with him. You can’t remember the last time a vegetable was eaten by your toddler. The teenager slammed the door and you slammed your fist on the table. Oh and the poop…oh the poop!

Every mama lives a million different versions of this every day.

We see all the perceived failure and we assume that is what our children see too.

I think our children see more. I think their young eyes are better than ours. Actually I’m quite certain they are because lately my daughter’s favorite way to wake me up is to poke me directly in my closed, unsuspecting eyes. I now wear a patch.

No really, I think our kiddos see better than we do the hard work and amazing job we do daily. Our ordinary is their glorious wonder. We make them meals and they eat to full. We wipe their bottoms and change their diapers and survive potty training right by their side. Our arms cuddle them through sniffles and nightmares. We are their safe place.

We show up to all the places where they fall short as little people and we remind them in the nooks and crannies of their day that they matter

Yesterday? All I saw was how I asked my wee girl to go play by herself a dozen times while I did dishes and answered emails. What I forgot to see was the time and again that I loved on her and listened to her and looked her straight in the eye to say another “I love you.”

I failed to see the times where I got down on her level to level much needed discipline with love. I stumbled past all the moments where I put down the phone and put away the computer to just be with her.

Are there days where I truly mess up and miss these moments? Yes. I’m learning not to beat myself up. I just need to make simple life giving changes that amount to daily choices. Choices that give more life to my children and more life to me.

If one more person tells me to cherish these years I just might break right in two. I love these years. I embrace these years. I’m about to have another baby and I’m so glad I have enjoyed these last three years with my girl, all day, every day.

I don’t need another voice telling me that I’m not taking it all in.

The voice in my head bellows loud enough with it’s accusations that I don’t give enough. It’s repeated over and over again and I look at my mothering glass and it looks like it just has a few drops in the bottom.

I went to lift my arm a second ago and found it glued to the kitchen table because of a maple syrup puddle left from breakfast. That’s love right there. It fills bellies. It fills hearts. It fills our children’s milk cups in the morning.

Imagine if all of us struggling under the load of our own unmet expectations began to see how our children are thriving on the life we make for them each day? It would flip it all upside down for us to know that we really, truly are doing God-sized things for pint-sized people.

Your worship today is not at the fountain of productivity, but at the spigot of tiny endeavors with great purpose. You fill sippy cups and lives at the same time.

Each morning we start with a fresh full glass to mother from. The mercies of God are new and our children wait expectantly to drink it all in. When you feel empty know that you can still mother full.

Carry on mamas. Your cups are fuller than you think.

Do you tend to see your children’s cups  as half empty and place the blame on yourself? Let’s talk in the comments

{Oh and aren’t friends who are great photographers the best? My sweet friend Sarah snapped these the other day while watching the sweet girl. Go check her out!}