I cried at the coffee table during MOPS today.  (Mothers Of PreschoolerS, a group I attend because it feels like I have a million toddlers.)

I cried because moving is hard. Making new friends is hard. Parenting four kids is hard.

I cried because there was a wait list for MOPS and I am a small town girl navigating a big city. I may live in the woods, but I have to do life in an overwhelming haze of traffic and VERY BUSY people.

And truth be told, I cried over my FB feed because the world feels awful and ugly and people are fleeing for their very life and it seems hopeless and daunting to help.

Who am I to cry over MOPS and my inability to corral my tiny tornadoes in Costco? But I do.

Motherhood is sanctifying me, and that process isn’t lovely, my friends.

I cried last Tuesday in the pouring rain on the way to Back to School night for the J girl because, at the moment, I don’t feel like I am doing any of this well. I missed a good 80% of the evening because I didn’t read the email completely. Or retain any worthwhile information with regards to it.

I cried because my darling girl isn’t sleeping well so I’m not sleeping well and my boy posse gives me no quarter.

I cried because I’m not supermom, and I wish the nice people in Costco would quit saying I am. I am surviving on coffee, the kindness of near strangers, and a whole dang ocean of grace. 

I need help everywhere I go.

I’m telling you all this because I’m overdue for some real talk. And when I show you this video (by Kathryn Lee Photography), I want you to know the truth.

 

And the truth is, these four smallish babes are just the pieces of my heart carved up and walking around in human shapes and oh how I love them. But most days do not look like this. You may find it hard to believe, but we are not always dressed in matching clothes. I fix my hair once every six weeks. The little ones cry. A lot. And in between my shiny Instagram feed and incessant run of FB photos, I have weeks like this one. Lots of tears. Maybe a pity party or two. Or twelve. Then a late-night soul-cry prayer, a soaking up of scripture and I am steadied on the wind and the waves.

Motherhood in the trenches is hard, and I just need all you other yoga pant wearing, nonshower-taking, sleep deprived, coffee addicted mommas out there to know you are not alone. And if you feel alone and live somewhere in Northern Va, call me, because I need some new friends. 

~M.

(I’m better now, I promise. God is gracious to me, even when I am having giant pity parties for myself. Also, I have more photos to share from our family session and I can’t wait for you to see them. Also, THE CHICKENS ARE STILL ALIVE.)