Mom Guilt

Mom guilt is a very real thing. It comes in all shapes, sizes, and circumstances.

 I go to the Children's Museum here in Houston quite often.  A few weeks ago,

I had someone ask me if I take Malachi, my 10 month old, to the Tot Spot play area.  My reply was "No, we go wherever Big Brother wants to go." And then it was there. Mom guilt.

I have been struggling with this specific kind of mom guilt since Malachi was born.  I feel and at times feel guilty because I don't do the same things for Malachi that I used to do for Benaiah.  Benaiah doesn't get to do the same things he use to.

Benaiah got my undivided attention.  Malachi does not. As the boys are constantly battling for my attention.

Malachi has had many interrupted nursing sessions because I had to stop his big brother from coloring on the walls.

I've had to let Malachi cry more on the floor by himself while I attended to Benaiah.

Benaiah has had to climb the chairs and counter tops to get something to eat because I was preoccupied.

Malachi never gets to go to library story time because Benaiah doesn't like it.

Benaiah doesn't get to go to a gymnastics center anymore because I couldn't keep up with both of them.

More recently, Benaiah got to play in the Tot Spot area as a baby and small child. Malachi will not except for very special occasions.
The list can go on and on.

I spent months crying and battling over this guilt that my children have to share me.  That my arms are not fully theirs at all times. The transition from one child to two children is not easy for any one. I've learned that though we can't do the same things we use to in the same way, my boys are learning a lesson that can't always be taught.  It has to be learned from experience.

We have to put others first and our needs and wants will not be met immediately met when we want them to be. When I am faced with mom guilt that deals with my children battling for my attention, I have to constantly remind myself that it's good for my children.  They are learning life lessons.


Malachi may never get to play in the Tot Spot area, but he gets to play right along big brother and learn life lessons that can't be taught. He gets to be apart of the action.  He constantly gets a loving pint-sized sometimes rough hug from his big brother.  He may not get all my attention, but he is so loved.

Don't let mom guilt cripple you.  Allow yourself to embrace your new season of life.  It is oh so hard, but very rewarding.

Don't become weary in doing good. For at the proper time you will reap a harvest if you do not give up.  Galatians 6:9 (Leah's Paraphrased Version) :)

The Small Things

Being a mom this past week was hard.

When I gave birth to my strange miniature human, I threw all my selfishness out of the window. Wrong.  I'm still selfish, but now I have to force myself to be selfless 24 hours a day.  It is hard work, y'all. 

My week was so exhausting that I even job searched.. (I know, I know. Crazy.) And I love being a SAHM, but not this week.  This past week I daydreamed about what I could be doing without my son.  While a friend, without kids, was going hiking in Colorado, I was trying to force a babler (baby and toddler mix) to eat his stinking peas and take just one nap.  Hiking in Colorado sounded like an extremely nice get away at the moment. Ha. 

In the past 7 days my son has managed to dump out every open cabinet/drawer or shelf he could find.  I felt like my back was going to explode from picking up so much tub-o-ware, bowls, pots and pans.

Every time I open the door outside and I don't let Benaiah out, he throws a fit.  If he could play outside all day, he would.  We spend two hours a day outside. I'm not exaggerating. 

For some reason, Benaiah pretended that he wasn't 20 pounds.  So he wanted to be carried all day.

  

He also thinks it is super funny to climb up the stairs and run away from me like we're playing tag.  I know it's incredibly cute, but I need him to stay downstairs.

He is obsessed with dog food.  If it's out, he's going to get it.  

He thinks it's hilarious when I say "NO!" Seriously. He laughs. 

He's also figured out how to open the toilet seat and do water play.  If I forget to shut one door, it all goes downhill from there.  

The dish cycle never ends. Ever. If the sink is clear of dishes, somehow in an hour a dish or 50 appear.

Let's not forget that all of the toys should be scattered all over the living room. Not one toy should be left in the toy box.

I know this is typical mom stuff.  As I'm grumbling and complaining about my full-time job, I feel the Lord nudge me gently.  

He reminds me to find Him in the small things.

The small things.

Like when my son runs outside to explore God's creation.  He is so happy throwing dirt in his hair and splashing in his little plastic blue pool.  He loves taking hour long walks around our neighborhood pond.  He has not care in the world if sweat is dripping in his eyes. He loves his view.

The small things.

Like when he pulls a book or 20 off the shelf.  He picks one and brings it to me so he can flip through the pages while I read one word. He loves reading.

The small things.

Like when he bangs on anything to create music.  He pulls the tub-o-ware out to bang on it like a  drum.  I leave a key-board on a low table upstairs. He runs upstairs just to "play" it. 

The small things.

Like when he's playing with his toys, he'll walk over just to give me a besito (kiss in Spanish). 

The small things.

Like when he gets super silly before bed and wants to wrestle on the couch or bed. He loves when I gently push him back. He'll laugh and laugh. 

The small things.

Like when he takes his bath in the evening, he'll have conversations with me and his rubber duck. He's such a talker.

The small things.

Like when I sing him Amazing Grace before laying him in his crib.  He nestles his head on my chest and coos as if he's singing with me.

The small things.

Like when I'm listening to worship music in the car and my son sleeps peacefully in the back.  Instead of dreaming what I could be doing, I'm dreaming of what he will be doing. 

Finding God in the small things.  

When all our complaints seem to overwhelm us, it's important to stop and remember the small things that have a bigger impact on our lives and our little ones' lives. 

This week I will stop and remember that I need God more than anything.  I need His help to remember Him the small things. To remember Him through the laughter and the tears. I need His help to remember where I was and where He has brought me.  I am new because I know Him.  Remembering God in the small things is not just for me, but for those that are around me especially my baby boy. 

Vacuum Monster

My son, Benaiah, is terrified of the vacuum cleaner.

My floors have been and are a wreck! (I have two dogs that shed.) Ugh!

The other day I was thinking about how much I love my son.  And when he is frightened he clings to me.  He knows that I am his place of refuge.  His place of safety. He knows that I will never let him go.

When I take out the vacuum, Benaiah stops whatever he is doing and stares at the monster waiting for its next move.

Benaiah slowly eyes it, crawling around it by a foot.  He clings to my legs.  Every now and then he'll touch it to see if it will bite.

I pick him up.  Straddle him on my hip.  I begin to vacuum.  He stares cautiously at the noise maker watching its every move.

I thought about the monsters in our lives that come out of the closet.  These monster's could be our finances, our pride, our family, our friends, our fear of failure, our doubts, or our unbelief

When circumstances or feelings come from the closet to show their ugly face, do you stare awhile and run away to avoid danger? Or do you cling to a place of refuge in Jesus and let Him battle the monster?

How many times do we try to battle the monster on our own?   I am still learning to continue to find rest and comfort in the arms of Jesus.

I need to become more like my 11 month old son.  Although I try and teach him things everyday, he teaches me more.

Let the owner of the world hold us and handle the monsters in our lives.