Week Two: Beauty
Today, after swimming my twenty laps, the lady next to me said, "good luck on your tests!"
And for a moment I wished I would be spending the next three days taking tests. Anything but the monotony of motherhood. What a thankless, never-ending job.
I know you know what I mean.
But we don't want to say it. Especially not during The Three Months of Joy. "What a horrible thing to say! Don't you love being a mother?"
Yes. But. Motherhood has no finish line. No final exam. Very rarely do you get a pat on the back or an A+ on your forehead.
Because people notice you when things go bad. When your toddler flips out in the shopping cart. When your preschooler screams at another child. When you grab your two kids, one under each arm and escape out the side door of the room in a huff.
Yep. That's what people see.
So, while I'm trying so hard to be a positive influence on my children and a good role model, really I'm exhausted. Burnt out on doing and being and caring and giving. Tired of waiting for my report card. Tired of running on empty.
I need a granola bar.
I'm not ready for this week's challenge. Ann Voskamp has written something called The Parenting Manifesto of Joy, which I am wishing to implement in my life. But believe me, folks, it's hard to fake joy. Define: joy -- the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something exceptionally good or satisfying; keen pleasure; elation.
Tough to pretend.
But I WANT to! I want my kids to see it. To experience it. I want to experience it too. What is so fleeting about joy?
And why can a pile of dishes or laundry so quickly bury its remnants?
I know you know what I mean.
But we don't want to say it. Especially not during The Three Months of Joy. "What a horrible thing to say! Don't you love being a mother?"
Yes. But. Motherhood has no finish line. No final exam. Very rarely do you get a pat on the back or an A+ on your forehead.
Because people notice you when things go bad. When your toddler flips out in the shopping cart. When your preschooler screams at another child. When you grab your two kids, one under each arm and escape out the side door of the room in a huff.
Yep. That's what people see.
So, while I'm trying so hard to be a positive influence on my children and a good role model, really I'm exhausted. Burnt out on doing and being and caring and giving. Tired of waiting for my report card. Tired of running on empty.
I need a granola bar.
I'm not ready for this week's challenge. Ann Voskamp has written something called The Parenting Manifesto of Joy, which I am wishing to implement in my life. But believe me, folks, it's hard to fake joy. Define: joy -- the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something exceptionally good or satisfying; keen pleasure; elation.
Tough to pretend.
But I WANT to! I want my kids to see it. To experience it. I want to experience it too. What is so fleeting about joy?
And why can a pile of dishes or laundry so quickly bury its remnants?
2. Today, I will transfigure all things into beauty, and I will refuse to see anything else.
This week, I want to see the beauty in everything. I'm going to need infared glasses to see the beauty in a pile of poop or the crumbs on the floor. But I will do my best to refuse to see the ugliness and instead see the beautiful child who made the mess. And remember that they will grow up {eventually}. And see my reflection in their eyes -- the mother whose response will shape and develop their outlook on life.
Will you join me in searching for, uncovering, choosing to see the beauty in things this week? Share your honesty, your heart. We're in this mess together.
And at the end of the week?? Report cards with straight A's for everyone.
Link up here:
And at the end of the week?? Report cards with straight A's for everyone.
Link up here:
Grab my button:
