I don’t know how to how to be a mother, really.
I don’t have all the right words to tell them
I don’t know how to teach them
words and orders
repeating and explaining
how I live
how I speak
they will know and do and be
because of what I’m doing, not what I’m saying.
living out what you say is right and good so they will act like you
because they will act like you.
I’m so often saying one thing and acting quite another thing out.
That’s the pressure in motherhood for me, the thing I worry over getting right.
Not when they potty train
Maybe those things matter, but only for a time and then they don’t.
When I say I want to allow myself to fall into motherhood, I’m not talking about losing myself, I’m talking about allowing myself to be changed by it in the ways that I am meant to be changed so they will see it and want to live it too.
Motherhood is all about changing. Our children, they change overnight, growing and learning and being more all the time.
I get scared that I won’t have enough time to make sure they understand what I’m saying but not living out. I hate it that my own growing up takes so much more time, that they may be gone before I’ve finally allowed myself to be the best version of me. Because the trickiest thing is that mothering is such sacrifice and there are so many demands in the daily grind, it leaves very little space and time for the growing up of me. There is no option other than slow to grow, when a mother is almost always buried in serving and trying to love it, distracted from herself. So, the cocooning process is terribly long, at least for me.
I make it no secret that I believe in a graceful God, one that takes our slow process and the ways we fail and redeems it, making butterflies out of sighing grumpy mother caterpillars,
up in the air.
And this is Grace, my children, already seeing me as that butterfly, even now on my slow-belly crawl through time.
And this is Motherhood, a chance to see myself through those merciful eyes of my children, and then live what they see, what I didn’t see without them.
This post was sitting in my drafts, afraid to rear it’s head. Then I was inspired to finish it by MamaKat and her writing prompts on Motherhood over at Mama’s Losin‘ It. So here it is, out of it’s cocoon, if you will.