encouragement to the mom on the kitchen floor

To the mom on the kitchen floor:

(Note: it may not actually be the kitchen floor. Maybe it’s the bathroom floor, or the bedroom floor, or even your bed. Whatever place is just out of sight from your little one/s, just for a minute or two.)

I see you there, your face in your hands. Possibly rubbing your temples to get the headache and the crazy thoughts to go away. Maybe some tears coming out (as silently as possible to avoid drawing attention).

I know you feel like you’re at the end of your rope.

It’s been a long, hard day, one that probably looks different for you than for me. Maybe it was one temper tantrum too many. Perhaps you have yet to have just one conversation with another grown-up. You might be going through a particularly stressful season of training or growing.

While this is happening, there’s a mess on the table that is just too much to clean up right now. There’s laundry in a basket by the couch. There’s a soreness in your back you can’t shake. You sense the dread that your husband will come home and consequently see the house and you. You hear a screech coming from the other room that you don’t have the stamina to face yet.

What you want to do is curl up in a ball in bed.

You so want to be off for an hour. Not refereeing or directing or driving or entertaining or picking up or even moving. Not entertaining or answering a question or preparing food or sweeping the floor. Who knew momming could contain so many endless tasks strung together?

And every sort of evil thought is whispering in your mind:

You can’t do this.

You’re no good.

You lost your cool one too many times today.

You’re a failure.

Mama, you’re not alone.

I’m sitting right here with you. I’m begging for bed time to come. I too would love just a few minutes of peace before another meltdown. I’m gritting my teeth at having to sweep the floor, again, after my kid dumped his lunch on the ground. You need to know this.

You also need to know that you care so much and feel so much because you love so much.

Because every minute goes towards helping these kids grow and succeed. That makes you a great mother, albeit a stressed out one.

You need to know that this day is not every day.

I know you know that, but you need the reminder, just like I do. That right now is temporary. Your feelings are valid and real and difficult. But they are not permanent.

You need to know that just around the corner, there’s a hug and a kiss.

There’s an unexpected “I love you”. There’s a little one who will put his or her hands on your cheeks and say, “What’s wrong, mama?” There are a lot of special moments just waiting to happen, just storing themselves up for you. There are more good times than bad.

Finally, you need to know that there is grace for the weary mom.

God “tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those who have young” (Isaiah 40:11, NIV).

It means that when meal times aren’t as healthy as you’d like, when the direction comes out in a yell, when all you can manage household-wise in one day is to pick up one sock off the floor – God sees you and holds you close.

He is cheering you on.

God handpicked and specially designed you to be the right mom for your little ones. He sees your struggle and sits calmly with you on the floor, his hand on yours, helping you find the energy to keep going.

Mama, I hope you feel joy and peace in your journey as a mom. Maybe it won’t be in this moment. Maybe it’ll be at dinnertime when someone says something that makes you almost spew water from your mouth, it’s so hilarious.

It might be the end of the day after the kids have gone to bed, and you find yourself actually missing the little voices and snuggles. It might be tomorrow after a good night’s sleep.