(This was originally written four years ago. Funny how time passes, but the feelings about motherhood stay the same.)
This afternoon, Noah begged me to push him on the swing. I dragged myself outside to help him. No underdog, he informed me. I complied . It only took a couple pushes because (hooray!)he’s learned to pump. I stepped back and laid on the warm, black surface of the tramp. The backs of my eyelids blazed red as I soaked up some much needed vitamin D. I laid there, listening to the creak of the swing, taking deep breaths, thinking about my day and how much more relaxed I felt than the day before.
I’m not made for being a chauffer. I counted a total of 7 trips I made on Wednesday. (Almost a half tank of gas! Ga!) I came home angry and frustrated. I growled at my kids and was prickly to my husband. Once dinner had been served, I parked my car-seat-shaped-butt on my bed, announcing that I was not moving for the rest of the night. I didn’t. When I said my prayers, I’m ashamed to say, I was still cranky.
Lucky for me, we have a Father who knows and loves us, even when we’re grouchy. He knows what we need, even when we don’t.
I was supposed to have another day of running back and forth, but things turned out differently. I was able to be home. I cleaned , I vaccumed, I laundered. Funny how the things I complain about were the very things I needed to do to feel normal again. I sat with Noah on my lap to watch cartoons. Heavenly day- we both took a nap! When the kids arrived from their next-to-last day of school, I was there and happy to see them, to listen to their stories and admire their artwork and serve up less-than-nutritous snacks.
Today, my loving Father gave me what I needed. A day of home. A day to be a mom. A day to rest. Tender mercies to remind me that I’m known and loved and watched over.