Mommy Meltdown

You guys I try really hard to keep it all together. I try to have my meltdowns in the privacy of my home, usually hiding on the bathroom floor hoping the hubs doesn't hear the sobs. I try. I really do. But the past two Sundays I've had the ugly cry happening ... at church of all places. I mean seriously?!? Can't I at least pretend to have it together in front of all the church people??

I don't write a whole lot about the mommy side to things. There seems to be so much going on with my mom that the mommy side gets pushed to the back burner. Just saying that, I feel all kinds of perfect mommy eyes judging me, but I'm trying to keep it real.

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE being a mom. I didn't realize just how much into little man came into my life. He is a mess in all the right ways and I would not trade a single year of the pain that it took to finally hold him in my arms for one minute.

I struggle like most new moms (or at least I tell myself this is how other first time moms feel) feeling like I'm a failure most days. When I serve yet another grilled cheese after a long day, when I sit down at a nice restaurant only to have my son throwing every ever loving piece of food across the room, when we walk through the aisles of the grocery store and he is the one screaming at the top of his lungs. I have found so many new ways to feel like I'm not adding up then I ever even knew were possible.

But lately I've reached a new one ... the boy hates church. I mean screams at the top of his lungs hates it. It's our fault. I know that. Last year we took some time to work through our hurt and while I still believe that was the best decision for us, it meant the boy didn't develop a pattern of being in the nursery every single Sunday. Now that the hubs and I are teaching Sunday School again we are back in the swing of things every week.  The past two weeks have been completely agonizing. And seriously he has the best class of Sunday School teachers ever. Two of the sweetest, most gentle and kind women I know. Yet he screams.

It will get better they say. He will get used to it they say. It's good for him they say.

Today after handing him over while he was screaming and clawing at my neck, I went upstairs to our Sunday School room and lost it. I bawled. And you guys I am not a pretty cryer. It's not even a little cute. I heard myself telling Chris that we were horrible parents. What kind of mother leaves her child screaming like that? What business do I have teaching in a Sunday School while my child is a few floors below screaming his head off? That was it, I was done. I got up and walked myself right back down to his Sunday School room, only to find him sitting quietly in his teachers lap looking at a book. I went back after Sunday School and there he was running around and playing.

He in no way did perfect today. There were lots of tears, probably lots of frustration on his teachers behalf, but this Sunday I almost made it all the way through the church service before I had to go get him. So I left church today not feeling so broken and feeling even a little bit hopeful.

Being a mom is hard. Really hard. Like harder than I really ever thought it could be. But you know what? We put so much pressure on ourselves. So much pressure worrying about what other people think. Sometimes I wonder if I was half as worried about what Jesus thought as I was what people thought if I would be doing things different?

Here's what I learned this morning. I'm not perfect. My boy is not perfect (although some days he's close, his babysitter is crying at this moment she is laughing so hard, I promise you that!) But that's okay. I don't have to be perfect. I've been reading Hosea. Which is funny because we've been talking about Justice, Mercy, Compassion and today Deliverance with our Seniors. All themes I see in the story of Hosea. But this morning as I sat there worrying about what a horrible mother I was I was reminded that ultimately my kid doesn't need me. He needs this Jesus. And at the end of the day whether I am a complete failure as a mother, a wife, a daughter or all of the above, Jesus is the source that I should be comparing myself to. I have to lay down my fears, lay down my tendency to compare and lay down my need to judge myself oh so harshly. I have to trust that Jesus picked me to be the mom of my boy and he will not abandon me. He will walk with me and guide me every step of the way. I'm so grateful I don't have to do it alone. I'm also really grateful that I don't have to be perfect. It also makes me really want to offer a little grace to the mommy that I see struggling tomorrow. We get it sister! We've all been there and as they say it will get better. :)