There are moments in motherhood that look small on the outside but feel enormous on the inside.
Recently I had one of those moments. It was a Thursday and we were packing for a weekend trip to visit my parents. My son asked if we were bringing anything in for his classmates…oh shoot. His birthday was that Saturday and we usually bring a classroom treat to celebrate. So I packed us up as quickly as I was able to with a toddler and infant needing me and headed to the store.
I was racing into Walmart holding the baby without a carrier because I just didn’t take the extra time to put the carrier on-trying to grab cupcakes for my son’s class birthday celebration. I didn’t have a cart either because I thought I would be able to just grab and run. I was juggling everything with my arms and my mind racing. And blood sugar that was dropping faster than I could manage.
Then I realized I was late late. The time on my phone said 2:13 and there was already a pick-up line forming at the school which meant a full parking lot. I was supposed to be in his classroom at 2! Suddenly the pressure started building inside my chest. Not just because I was late, but because of the quiet thoughts that creep in so easily as a mom:
He deserves better than this. Better planning. Better preparation. A mom who isn’t rushing at the last minute holding a baby and juggling cupcakes (which she dropped). A mom who didn’t arrive to the school so late we had to postpone the celebration until the next week.
The voice in my head was loud. Much louder than the reality of the situation. By the time we got there, my heart felt heavy with guilt. I kept thinking about all the things I should have done differently. And of course, the tears started running.
But something happened that surprised me. Something that really made me stop.
Isaiah was kind about it. He wasn’t upset or seemingly disappointed. He wasn’t analyzing the situation the way I was. He just received the moment. He was okay with the situation. My soon-to-be 9 year old handled the situation with more maturity than me.
That afternoon reminded me of something I’m slowly learning about motherhood. The pressure we carry as moms is often invisible and self-imposed. We believe our children are measuring every moment. We think they notice every mistake and even assume they are keeping score. But most of the time, they aren’t. They just want us. Our presence. Our love. Our imperfect effort.
Motherhood has a way of exposing how much we try to control everything. The schedule. The details. The outcomes. But real life rarely cooperates with our plans. Babies need to be held. Kids forget things. Time slips through our fingers. We over promise and sometimes show up with cupcakes at 2:13 instead of 2:00.
What I’m learning is that grace has to start inside our own homes. Not just grace for our kids. Grace for ourselves too. Because the truth is, we are not failing our children when life feels messy. We are simply living it with them. And often, our kids see love in places where we only see mistakes.
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
— 2 Corinthians 12:9
Maybe motherhood isn’t about getting everything right. Maybe it’s about showing up again and again, even when we feel like we’re falling short and trusting that God is working in the middle of the chaos too.
I recommend reading this one next-Talk about testing my patience!
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