My Kids Are The Reason I Continue To Keep The Faith
I find grace in the little things.
Natalia Lebedinskaia / Shutterstock Being a mother gives me a sense of purpose. Because if my crazy body can create another human life, there has to be a point to all this madness, right?
There never seems to be enough money, a constant financial struggle that leaves me anxious and moody. Money does not buy happiness, they say. Happiness, perhaps not — but it could certainly provide comfort.
There have been days of surviving on popcorn and saltine crackers. There have been nights when I was not sure we would have a roof over our heads. There have been needs and wants that have long gone ignored. Sacrificed.
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I struggle to know what are the right decisions to make and falter when I misstep. There was no guidebook — my mistakes should not define me. But people are so quick to judge, especially if you are a good enough mom.
As if any of us truly know what we're doing.
Some days I find grace in the little things.
Some days I find poop floating
In a freshly poured bath
Sighing, “eff my life”
A little too loud as I
Scoop toddler turds into
The white porcelain toilet
And flush them
Goodbye.
You smile, and I swear I would do anything to make you happy. My heart started living outside my body the moment you came into the world. Messy and chaotic, you were everything that I could never be — perfection.
I kiss your toes as you sleep, peaceful and still, wondering what things I must have done right to deserve such soul-crushing love. I feel it in my bones, in my blood. I was born to be your mother, created to be your first love.
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Something inside me struggles to believe that I am worthy of such love. Worthy of being a parent, despite all the flaws.
Motherhood is a strange experience that nobody mentally prepares you for — not even close. It is constant and requires patience, adaptability, grace. It takes and takes and takes and takes and takes and takes and maybe you will get a gap-toothed grin or a breathless “I love you, mom” as they fall asleep.
There will be days that make everything worth it; but there will also be days of darkness, of getting fed up with the same sh*t, different day routine. Your character is tested, your will is tested, your love is tested.
These are the days that nobody ever mentions.
My kids are the reason I continue to keep the faith, to seek out the good and beautiful parts of the world. They are a constant vessel of strength for me, for there are wounds only their hugs and laughter can heal. Love, unconditionally, without judgment.
Am I worthy of their affection?
Perhaps not, but I find intention is half the battle. I intend on loving my children for who they are and accepting that they owe me nothing for their existence. Yet, I owe them everything for mine.
Three days in a row
I awoke to broken eggs
On the kitchen floor
Despite a baby lock,
Despite a baby gate.
Just another mess to clean.
Emily Lingenfelser is a 20-something mom who writes and captures moments to make sense of this messy world. She runs the website, Emily is Fearless.
