Being a mom is a blessing. At the same time it’s hard.
Not rocket-science hard, but test-my-patience hard. How can something that looks so simple from the outside arouse the monster in me and crush the wall of sanity that I once deemed indestructible?
As a child I put motherhood on a pedestal, holding many romanticized notions. I’d coddle my baby dolls until they were threadbare, stroll them around the house, and line them up neatly to teach school. Being kind was easy because they were always content. I could abandon them on a whim and return hours later, their smiles plastered in place.
But there’s a difference between live babies and inanimate ones, and only an insider can understand the relentless demands of the real thing. Prior to joining the mom club, I’d see a beautiful child dressed up and think how much fun it’d be to have my own. I never considered the legwork required to get that child out the door: the cajoling her out of bed, the scrambling to iron her dress, the time spent fixing breakfast, brushing teeth, and fighting to get a bow in her hair.
On a good day, I love being a stay-at-home mom, and I’m grateful to have the option. But some days I wish I could trade places with my husband. I wish I was the one working while he was stuck at home dealing with temper tantrums, stomach bugs, clogged toilets, home emergencies, carpools, sibling fights, and dirty laundry.
I envy his quiet office, his commute to work {which sounds like heaven since I’m rarely alone in the car}, and the fixed hours of his job. I feel guilty for not always appreciating my four kids because it’s hard to see the beauty in motherhood when they are at each other’s throats, pushing me to the brink, and making me wonder what I’m doing so wrong that I can’t keep anyone happy.
Times like these, my blessings lose clarity. The camera lens shifts and gets hazy around the edges. I lose sight of what my children are – gifts from God – and hone in on the negatives. Sassy attitudes. Ungratefulness. Cutting remarks. Hitting. Strangling each other. Whining. Breaking my iPad. Staining my bedspread. Getting paint on the carpet downstairs. Forgetting to take the dog out and then stepping in her poop and tracking it throughout the house…
Time and again I’ve literally had to scream, “Lord, help me!” to keep from cussing. I’ve had to walk away, take a breath, or bite my tongue to keep from saying or doing something I know I’ll regret. But sometimes, I don’t hold back. I react with anger and yell because I’m tired and beat down and can’t take it anymore. I’m not proud of these moments, nor am I justifying my behavior, because losing it with my kids is the sort of thing that keeps me awake at night, praying to God to help me control myself and be the mom my kids deserve.
We all have breaking points, but what makes a mother’s breaking point hard to accept is that completely contradicts what we feel. How can we hurt the people we’d walk through fire for? How can we be harsh to the beautiful souls we ushered into this world?
When our children are newborns, love is so simple. We gush and shower them with affection because they’re cuddly, helpless, and irresistible. But as our babies grow up, they become people with strong personalities. They learn to talk back, stomp their feet, and demand things. When it’s just one child talking back and stomping feet, we can keep our cool, but when multiple children do it at once….well, eventually momma’s gonna blow.
I don’t have solutions of how to never lose your temper, because I’m working on this myself, but I can share some thoughts on what helps me when my parenting lens gets out of whack. I can throw out truths we all know deep down but tend to forget in the heat of the moment, such as:
1. Children are blessings, not burdens. To raise a child is an honor that can transform our life in powerful ways.
2. Our children are young and still learning. We can’t expect of them what we expect of adults because their minds and maturity aren’t there yet. How they act at 3, 5, 10, and 15 is probably how we acted at 3, 5, 10, and 15. What helped mold us – patience, grace, and a loving yet firm hand – is exactly what they need. It takes time to train a child in the way they should grow and teach what is and isn’t acceptable.
3. Yelling solves nothing. As Rumi once said, “Raise your words, not your voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.” While we may get a temporary high from releasing steam, that high is quickly offset by a crash of remorse. If we can take a moment to remember how terrible we’ll feel afterward, we may stop ourselves from snapping.
4. We are role models for our children. Their behavior reflects our behavior. If we’re tired of our kids screaming to make a point, could it be because we’re screaming to make ours?
5. Part of love is reconciliation. Asking our kids to forgive us when we mess up teaches us humility and teaches them that to err is human, to forgive is divine.
6. We live in a world where it’s okay to rant about kids. I’m all for moms trading war stories and offering moral support, but too much commiserating can become a habit. It can drag us all down and fuel the belief that parenting is drudgery. Parenting is not drudgery. It is a gift with huge challenges but far greater rewards.
7. Recalling our children as babies can soften our hearts. Remember how we swaddled them in blankets…bathed them in the kitchen sink…held them in a fetal position as they slept on our chest? Would we have ever yelled at those warm lumps? No, of course not. They were too vulnerable. The children who test us today are the same children we brought home from the hospital years ago. On the outside they’re tougher and more self-sufficient, but inside they’re still hungry for love and approval.
8. How we talk to our kids will affect how they’ll talk to their children. Parenting perpetuates itself, so the way we want our grandchildren raised is how we should raise our children.
My children and your children have beautiful hearts. And when we focus our lens there, on the purity and goodness inside them, all the little complications hide in the peripheral blur.
What’s a carpet stain compared to the beautiful art they painted for our birthday? What’s a sibling fight compared to the way they huddle together in prayer when one sibling is seriously hurt? What’s a sassy remark compared to the joyful leap our heart experiences when our child says, “I wuv you, momma. You the best momma ebber!”?
Even if our child’s been difficult all day, that memory fades fast when we hear their angelic voice one room over singing “Yes, Jesus Loves Me….”
In moments like these, all is forgiven. Our lens sharpens to the emotion that propels our parenting: Love. Big, intense, camera-breaking love. Love that swells and swells past the point of being captured. When big love enters the picture, our blessings come in focus. We see our kids as they truly are and thank God for the privilege of raising them.
Parenting isn’t for the faint of heart, and we’ll all endure battle wounds. But if battle wounds and a few broken household items are the price we pay to know love of epic proportions, then so be it. To some this may seem like a fair trade-off, but if our camera’s in focus, we’ll inevitably come to see that what we’re getting is actually the deal of a lifetime.
Do you need to refocus your parenting lens? What reminds you that your children are a blessing, not a burden?
Kari Kampakis
Kari Kubiszyn Kampakis is a mom of four girls, as well as an author, speaker, and blogger from Birmingham, Alabama. Her first book, 10 Ultimate Truths Girls Should Know, was written for teens and tweens and is now available through stores and online at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Books-A-Million, and Christianbook.com. Kari’s work has been featured on national platforms like The Huffington Post and The Good Men Project and reflects her passion for family and God. Learn more by visiting www.karikampakis.com or connecting with Kari on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, or Pinterest.
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