Though I confess it in faith with a Supergirl keychain, hoodie and t-shirt (thanks to the hubs) and I have a nickname floating around out there (Super Suze). I don’t feel so super all the time. Super Suze? More like a SUPERintendent of this crazy funny farm I’m running here.
Can I get an “Amen” from all the wives and moms out there?
Or am I the only one who feels overwhelmed, worn out and insecure about being….well, a human being in general?
Take yesterday for example:
I woke up on time (actually, for once) and had great plans to eat breakfast, take my vitamins and workout before noon.Laundry, phone calls and four children’s schoolwork gobbled up ALL.MY.TIME. in the morning.
Between 12:30pm and 1:30pm, I made lunch, helped both girls practice their piano, helped one son with his math homework, took a shower, washed my hair (after like 4 days…gross! I was holding off until after I worked out.), actually shaved my legs and armpits (trust me, it was needed) and headed out the door to piano lessons. Wet hair and all.
I drove the 1/2 hour to piano lessons and sat there for an hour and half. All the while, working on homework with each daughter and following up on emails about cakes. And silently dying inside because the girls had not practiced too much this week because of Passion Play and Easter. Geez, can’t I get my act together? Of all kids, mine should be thoroughly prepared for piano lessons.
On the way home, we drive through a horrendous downpour so bad that Emma says, “Please Jesus! Don’t let us die!” Of course, I was in the left lane and sandwiched between four other cars and could not pull over. My hands resembled the claw when we finally drove out of it.
I needed to go to the grocery store, but there was no time because the ex was coming over to take Nathan to his baseball game in a half hour. And he just called to tell me at 3:55pm. Sigh….well, I’m thankful for the help today. But the house looked like a bomb went off in it. Why can’t you keep your house clean like all the good wives and moms?
Rush home. Start screaming at kids to get ready for baseball. Get ready for dance. Oh wait…what? Scott has to be at work at 5? Oh Sweet Jesus, have mercy on my soul.
I scrounge up some bread and cheese. Grilled cheese and pierogies for dinner tonight. Emma complains. She hates grilled cheese. Nathan says to not put any yucky seasoning on the pierogies (What? It’s just garlic salt and butter!) The ex is ringing the doorbell. The kitchen looks like a Febreze commercial where they blindfold the people and ask what they smell. I simultaneously make four grilled cheese sandwiches, pierogies, load the dishwasher, empty the trash can, find baseball pants and belt from the basement, fix two ballerina buns, make a much-needed cup of coffee, feed the herd and get out the door in under 30 minutes. All the while, bridling my tongue and the brewing meltdown as best as I could.
For the love of God, how much can one woman take? I had my blingy It Works mug full of sweet nectar from God, though. It’s all about the silver lining, ladies. Or the rhinestone one.
I dropped Scott off at work with five minutes to spare. (Proud look beaming from my face just now.) Drove down to Sam’s Club for the groceries I so desperately needed. Mother Hubbard’s cupboards were, for sure, bare now. With my tiny ballerinas in tow, I raced through Sam’s like a skilled race car driver, even having the audacity to say “No, thank you,” to the Direct TV guy who was trying to solicit me. Ha! Take that sales guy!
I seriously made it through Sam’s Club with a full grocery cart in under 15 minutes. I’m not bragging, I’m just sayin. My time took a major hit though when I chose the wrong checkout line. You know what I’m talking about. The deceptively short line with the elderly lady whose cart has just a few items. Patience is a virtue, patience is a virtue. I chanted mentally to myself while my girls gave me crazy eyes and head nods towards the dear lady trying to work the credit card machine from her Hoverround. Emma was beginning to freak out about being late for dance AND she had to pee and was thirsty. Breathe in out, breathe out.
Finally, we got out of Sam’s. The wind was fiercely whipping when we got outside. The kind of wild wind that makes the hair on my head literally wrap around my entire face, obscuring my view. It took me five minutes to find my keys in my purse. The girls were freezing. Of course, it was like 70 degrees when we got in the car a half hour ago and no one felt the need to bring jackets. Mom fail.
Unloaded the cart into the back of my van. Took the cart to the cart return. (I did seriously consider leaving it by my van, but Joyce Meyer’s words ring in my head). Watch this… http://youtu.be/iedcwIxsKhE
That’s something. I guess.
And how about this? We made it to dance with 15 minutes to spare! Thank you, Lord. In everything give thanks.
Chatted with a friend at the dance school for a few minutes and arrived at Nathan’s game a few minutes late. I missed his first at-bat. Of course. He struck out, so that kind of saved me. Remember, I hadn’t brought a jacket…I looked in my trunk to see if I had a blanket or stray sweatshirt. Nope. What I did find was Emma’s fluffy panda hat with the attached scarf with hand warmers. I examined it and then decided against wearing it in front of the other moms. What would they think about me? So I got back in my van and watched the game from the hill. My thin shirt was no match for the bitter wind. Why couldn’t I get it together and remember things like jackets, hats and those bag chair things everyone else sits on at these games?
Well…at least it’s cold and my groceries in the trunk won’t rot before I get home.
When the game ended, it was 8pm. The girls weren’t getting done with dance until 9 and Scott wasn’t getting done with work until 10. So, I drove back home, unloaded the groceries, Nathan got a shower and we headed back to the dance school just in time to get the girls. In the meantime, Lew sends me a picture of the awards ceremony dinner he’s at in North Dakota. “Call me ASAP,” I say to him. I really just want to unload on him the chaos of my day so I’ll get a little sympathy. I was beginning to feel weepy and pitiful by that time of night. We chatted. He made me feel happy. He’ll be home in a few days. Just keep on keepin’ on.
We finally made it home a little after 10pm. I rush all the kids to bed. By that time, I was beyond tired. I wanted to get my workout in. Yeah, right. Who am I kidding? Bedtime for this old girl. I know I’ll hate myself in the morning for it. So I went to bed. Lily came in three times to ask me if I heard something. No. Go to bed!!!! Then of course, I lie there “hearing something” until 3am. Way to freak a mom out, Lily!
Here I sit today. More tired than before, but able to clearly evaluate what went down yesterday. Sure, the amount of running around and scheduling and quantity of stuff I was able to get done was impressive. Super, some might say. But what was going on in my mind and heart all day was super BAD. The negative self-talk was present all day long. I beat myself up mentally from morning until night. How and why did this happen?
I have expectations of myself that no one, not even God Himself, expects from me.
I often look around at other moms and wives and compare myself to them. I come up short every time.
I allow the opinions of others to steal my peace.
I forget whose image I am made in. I forget who I am in Christ.
I forget that I am loved by many people. And they love me just as I am.
Here are some truths about my life (and yours too, I’m sure):
Life is not perfect. I am not perfect. That’s okay.
I am doing the best I can, most days.
I love my kids. I love my husband. I love Jesus. They love me too, like a whole lot.
My home is clean enough…there are no infectious diseases or life threatening hazards at the present time. Everyone has clean underwear…today.
I have a roof over my head, food to eat and clothes to wear. Every day.
I AM a good mom. I AM a good wife. I AM a good person. Sometimes we’ve just gotta say that to ourselves.
Be encouraged today, mommy and wife. You’ll make it through today, one second at a time. Don’t beat yourself up if everything doesn’t go as planned or if the dishes are piling up. Play with your kids or cuddle with your husband instead. A clean house is WAY overrated…in my humble opinion. At least until the mother-in-law shows up.
Love yourself because YOU ARE LOVABLE.
And one last thing…let’s give each other a break too. When we criticize one another, it just shows how insecure we are with ourselves.