Who Should Your Son Marry?

Recently, Ok, it was actually just yesterday. I read two blog posts that created a ton of self doubt in my already worn- down- mommy- frazzled brain. The posts, while very well meaning and in no way meant to be offensive, really gave me a lot to think about.

The general idea was that homeschooling mothers should not spend the day in their pajamas, let the dishes go undone while lounging around in torn yoga pants and an old t-shirt.  The idea was expressed that it was not a sought after idea that her sons marry a woman who spends her day in pj's. Wow.
That is a heavy statement. Because it hit home.

Oddly enough, when I read these posts, both one after another, I was in torn yoga pants, an old t-shirt, while dishes undone and a house full of chaos. One 5 year old jumping everywhere and one 7 month old who slept a total of 40 minutes, not all together mind you, the entire day.

Did I mention I was tired and by tired I mean, I was so tired I couldn't see straight?

Did I mention that during one of my bathroom trips I almost fell asleep on the toilet? That was after I sat there thinking, ' Maybe I can just hide in here for the rest of the day'. It's not that my children are bad. Or that I don't love to be with them, because I do.
It's just every once in a while.... I doubt myself. I get worn down. I spend a day in my pajamas.  I need a break from the pressure. Those blog posts creeped into my life at that exact  time.

I took a deep breath.

I made a huge ice cream sundae and split it with my 5 year old.

I got on the floor and had a crawling race with my 7 month old.

I put on a simple dress and make-up.

I still thought I might pass out at any given moment. If my 7 month old had spent more than 10 minutes at a time in his exersaucer without babbling baby jargon the entire time, then I very well may have fallen asleep for a minute or so.  I did however congratulate myself when I made it to the end of the day and both boys were sweetly sleeping.

I ate dinner and my husband and I watched Little House on The Prairie.

Oh, I love this show. Where else can you find the simple joys of life so easily portrayed and fun to examine? Real life is tainted with so many distractions. It's so fun to peek into a world where life was so much more simple. When family and community were what really mattered.

I had let myself ponder the question that I had almost unwillingly been asked, in so many forms, earlier that day. " What kind of woman would I want my sons to marry?". " What kind of mother do I want for my grandkids?"  A slob? Was I a slob? I'm definitely not Ma Ingalls. But nowadays, who is? She holds a standard that is hard to reach, even on our tippy toes. When it comes to the chores, anyway.

There is however, one thing that she does that I can do. I can speak kindly to my sons ( most of the time). I can teach them about God and his  awesome love. I can spend any given afternoon on any given weekday with them smiling, laughing, teaching them, cooking for them, hugging them. I can do it all with love.

If I set an example for them that Moms are human. Perhaps they will be inclined to marry a humble, god fearing woman who, dare I say, spends a few days in her pajamas? After all, I kind of like the idea of going to visit my daughter-in-law on a Tuesday, in our pajama's, drinking coffee and playing old-maid.

Last night I rocked my 7 month old baby boy. Feeling his sweet little baby hand on my chest. He sleeps on me differently that he does his dad. More relaxed, more at home. Like the way you sleep in your bed versus someone else's bed. I breathed in the smell of his sweet baby hair. I held that little boy close and tight. So thankful for the beyond-words-blessing that he is to me and my family.

I kissed his head, I sang a soft little lullaby. I rocked him.  I thought of the babies who cry themselves to sleep at his age because " They don't need anything."  The answer began to come to me. The baby in my arms was being held and rocked because he didn't need anything, but love. Love of his mother. A love that is not matched by any other love. 


 The outward clothes do little for a person but dress them. They have some importance but lose significance when weighed against the power of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness.

I hope, I pray whoever my sons take to marry, they marry a woman who has a heart filled with those things. I am not saying that she should roll into Sunday services in an old t-shirt with torn yoga pants. Or even the grocery store for that matter. But in her home. Her place of rest. Let her wear those old pants. Let her be lazy  every once in a while.  Let her remember the time her babies were young. Her body was young, her life was young. She was loved and adored and comfortable. Even if it's only just for that one Tuesday that we sit and drink coffee and play old-maid.

When I Grow Up

Self doubt. It can be crushing can't it? The feeling as if whatever you have become is less than what you could have become. It can be heartbreaking.

When we were children we were asked, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" I almost kind of despise this phrased question.  When I was young though, I welcomed it, even basked in it's allure. 'What will I be when I grow up', I would ponder.  A dancer? No, takes too much training and dedication. A singer? No they have to wear too much make up and dress immodestly. An actress?! No.  They have to be stick skinny. Hmm. For the rest of my childhood, I pondered and pondered and pondered.


Then, one fateful fall day, the gig was up. My childhood, was over. I turned 18. I fell in love with a man that lived thousands of miles away and I only wanted to be one thing. Married.

We got married two years later. I started working at a daycare center and I felt like I had picked my path. I had somehow turned off the ponder process and let whatever it was that I was going to be when I was grown up, just happen.  Then a kid happened. I gave birth to our first son in 2006. I had baby blues, I had sleepless nights. I had a child and I was a Mommy. All of the sudden, I felt like my life is on hold. 

Whatever I was supposed to be when I was grown up all of the sudden became the most ridiculous statement uttered I had ever heard. I wasn't grown! I was a just a ignorant moron stumbling through life with this..this..attachment of a person!!!! I am the one feeding his dreams of what he will be when  he  grows up. So now what?! Who am I?! What did I do?! How do I go back and figure out what I'm going to be when I grow up?!


Self doubt. Motherhood. They go hand in hand I am pretty sure. I cannot think of one mother I have ever met who has not in some form or fashion shared at least once experience of severe self doubt about their mothering journey with me.  The funny thing is, it doesn't define us as people, I mean, it can if that's all you are. How many women do you meet, though, who are just mothers?  I honestly have not met one. 
Most of the women I know are mothers and....( insert something amazing).

So why is it that I am able to find my own bridge to painful and heart breaking self doubt? Why is it that,  I am not sure what I will be when I grown up?


Well, for one, I'm still relatively young.  I have not yet seen my 30th birthday and won't for a few years. I have a very youthful personality which some how keeps me doing very odd things that I know must make me look even younger than I am.  I think though, the biggest reason I don't know yet is that, I'm already there. I'm already grown. I'm already me. I never changed. If I wanted to be anything else I would have done it and so would you.  So many times it feels like I am a slave. A worker to my children and my husband and nothing more. Sometimes I see the glimpse into the fact that, I am in fact,  a singer, a dancer, an actress and so, so, so  much more. 


Not a day goes by that I don't sing to my kids. Not a day goes by that I don't act. Not a day goes by that I don't do a little dance to cheer up my almost 6 month old. So why, why can't this just be enough? Instead of the notion to be one thing to the world, why not bask in the beauty of being the WORLD to one ( or more) people. I'm putting away the self doubt. I'm living the life I was meant to have and always wanted. I'm going to sing and dance and act like I'm not covered in spit up and peanut butter.


It really is the best thing to be...... when you grow up.

Different World

Ok. The real  thrill here is to see if I can create a blog post before the baby wakes up from his nap. That's right, I said baby and nap.  After a painful journey that you can find in my older posts, I was blessed with another sweet little baby boy. Born February 3rd, 2011. The house has been busy since!  


Having two kids is a different world compared to one child. I have two sweet little faces to kiss, two sets of eyes to gaze into, two little voices giggling and sometimes yes, even crying. It is still, the world that I so much enjoy and find myself happier than I could ever imagine. I am beyond thrilled to watch both of my boys,  as they grow up and into little men. Seasons will pass, years will give way to more years and my memory of the daily same ole same ole will fade  but I will eternally remember the time that my world was forever changed,  all by a  curly headed  9lb. 8 oz, dimpled chinned baby boy.