Please tell me it hits you too… the moment when you feel the urge to lob a little, “I’m tired of the complaining, the attitudes, the not-getting-long, the bickering, the …. (should probably stop there :) – Guess what … I QUIT!” to the snarky kids that can’t stop telling me how they’ve been wronged by whoever is standing next to them.

Okay, so we know we can’t do that. Not only can’t we, but we really don’t want to. This mothering gig is a good one. It starts at the beginning when you’re holding a little bundle of goodness. Who knew you could love a baby the way you do. Not just one baby, but somehow love multiplies because it’s really true when I say, “I love each of you the same amount.” Of course, I must ignore the loud-whispered, “No she doesn’t… she loves me more” response aimed at a neighboring sibling, but that’s beside the point.

Still, I was having a small Calgon moment the other day. After enduring some emotional manipulation dished to me from a 13-year-old daughter with mono topped off by bickering siblings intent on involving me in their conflict, I felt the “I quit!!! … Happy Day taking care of yourselves” words teetering on my tongue, begging to get out.  I was doing my best to ignore them when I happened upon my friend Suzy Davis’ blog. If you’re needing perspective or some wind put in your sails, her words will sooth your soul. Good stuff sure flows from a momma when her chicks are flying the coop. I asked and Suzy sweetly told me I could share. So here’s a portion of Part-Time Mothers. Be sure to click the link to get the whole post… such good stuff, so beautiful!

But mothering is part-time.

When you look at the whole span of your life ~ and count up the years these precious children share your home ~ it’s just a part of your life. A small part, really. It will end. And then there is a good-bye.

I’m usually okay with good-byes especially if there’s something bigger and better waiting. But there is nothing conceivable to replace what my kids brought to my life. No project or idea or radical move could begin to soothe the grief spilling out of this mother heart.

So on that walk, I did the only thing I know how in situations that don’t make sense. That hurt inexplicably. That seem wrong, even though they are right.

I said thanks.

And through tears, I agreed with Truth. I said this is the day and I will rejoice.

Sweet words to remember, Suzy … especially tonight as I sat on the couch with my littlest guy sticking his feet in my face.

“Smell my feet.” he said.

“I don’t want to smell your feet.”

“SMELL MY FEET,” he urged shoving one right next to my nose.

“Okay” fake sniff “it smells great.”

He didn’t believe me. … “I’m going to smell it,” he informs me, then grabs his foot and takes a big whiff. “No it doesn’t!” He was right… it didn’t.

Next he laughed and jumped on my lap while grabbing for my neck. He squeezed as hard as he could then threw his head back and informed me, “I just tooted.”

I love that smelly kid and all my smelly kids. Even (maybe especially) on the rare days that I think I need a break. Because the days go fast. Too fast.

Thanks again for perspective, Suzy … and thanks for walking the road with me.


(For the techno-n00bs like myself, here’s the link to Suzy’s Blog)

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