FB,
11/16/2006: Jessica is not
looking forward to dealing with her MGMT 403 professor
FB,
9/16/2013: My
afternoon has basically been a frat party. 3 wild people in various
states of undress are yelling incoherent things and cheering one
another toward new heights of foolishness. They are playing some form
of Limbo (the youngest chanting loudly: "HELLO- Candy-Go").
And a new cold bottle of beer was taken from the fridge, thrown into
the living room, and exploded into a million sticky, little, fizzing
pieces. Party on!!!
Facebook's
new feature, On This Day, has come along just in time for me to begin
writing these things down. In the isolation of modern motherhood,
Facebook became a way I could reach out for a quick “I hear ya!”
or “me too!” I spent, and still spend, time when I craft the
occasional status update. Not only is it a little moment to be
creative but also a chance to encourage and be encouraged in the
strange land of Stay-at-Home-Parenting. I look forward to my little
set of On This Day memories. The temporally
striated posts give me a two-minute look back at my life phases from college through the past
year. One thing is clear: all the phases are hard.
At
my Bible study
a few weeks ago, it was
prayer request time. A
new friend had that look
like something big was on her mind but also like she might not want
to say it. I hope I did what
I did in a kind way, but it is always risky to try to draw someone
out of her shell.
“How
about you? You kinda look like you're sitting on something.”
She
answered, “Umm, I'm just really tired and feel like I have no right
to be, but I am.”
Collective
“mm” sounds and subtle head nods went around. I couldn't leave it
alone, though.
“I
don't want to force you, but...”
“Oh,
come on, Jessica. Yes, you do,” a friend interjected.
“Ha,
well, it just seems like... well... what's that 'Don't deserve to'
piece about?”
I
was sitting there with Bran, and she knows I have the other three. I
don't recall exactly, but I think I was soon to have my gallbladder
surgery. Our hostess had 4 children. Other women had two or three.
She is not a mom yet but works two jobs and had been doing a ton of
weekend traveling for family events. Of course, she had every right
to be tired! But, looking out at the room full of experiences she
hadn't yet had, she felt ashamed of being worn out.
“I
mean, I don't have anyone to take care of. I don't have a baby,”
she said as she vaguely gestured in my direction.
“Ya
know, I think every phase has felt hard. The exhaustion I feel now
doesn't feel different to me than the exhaustion I felt before kids.
It may have a different quality, but the effect on me is the same.”
The
other ladies chimed in, and we all agreed that tough is tough, no
matter what phase of life you are in. She
absolutely deserved some grace and love for the difficulties she
faces.
This
little moment at Bible study really stuck with me. I think parents
ARE crazy-tired. And it IS different than being tired from work
because sleep-deprivation is just a special kind of torture. I laugh
very hard at all the comedians' bits about how rough it is to have
small children, and I do long for the days when simple pleasures like
grocery shopping and long showers and great indulgences like sleeping
for 8 solid hours were available to me. But, I don't long for hours
behind a desk, dealing with group projects, being stuck in one
building 40 hours a week, etc. Every phase is hard.
As
parents we turn back and look at the D.I.N.K.S. and
kids with jealousy from our
high horses of Special Knowledge regarding the value of peeing with
the door shut, staying in bed all night, and
pursuing personal interests.
We wish they knew how good they have it because we think that would
cause the people around us to give us more credit for what we are
going through. We feel our
struggle is undervalued. But, I do remember the jealousy I had of
parents, the jealousy I probably would have if I wasn't one. “They
get to have the love of their children. They are doing something
meaningful every moment! She doesn't have to put on day-time clothes.
They are real grown-ups. I don't know if I'll ever be ready for
that.”
The
truth is: every phase is hard AND comes with unique perks and rich
blessing. We should trade monologues. I should tell myself how
fantastic parenting is more often than I let myself wallow in how
hard it is. People without kids should feel totally free to enjoy
their phase to the hilt! Take long showers! Peruse the grocery aisles
until you really do find the very best mustard! Don't
waste any time feeling guilty about not having kids to look after or
being afraid that you won't be good enough once you do.
I
got over being bitter towards the d.i.n.k.s. a couple of children
ago, but I started looking ahead with some fear and some jealousy
too. “Oh, to have kids who can all do {fill
in the blank}. To be
able to X and Y!” But, I see the moms of teenagers look at me with
my baby's head nuzzled
up under my chin. Their eyes tell a story of sweet memories and a new
kind of Special Knowledge. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” they tell
me. “It will go by too quick. Wait til you have teenagers...” I
usually hate it when they say that. It feels so imprecatory! I am
starting to get it, though. It DOES go by way too fast.
As
I sit here, the list of stresses in my head include a husband being
away on business for the next 36 hours (who's counting? ME), doing
the dog's walk on my own somehow, dealing with Bran and his umpteenth
snotty cold by myself all night, picking up and dropping off all my
school kids at their 3 different places, and on and on. My phase is
hard! When Ezra was a baby, I would give myself awards for leaving
the house when he was 4 months old. This time? I have no choice! We
have had days of being in and out of the car 9 times! NINE TIMES!
“But,” I hear, “wait
til you have teenagers!” Well, wait I will. And gladly.
We
have to give ourselves the grace we need for the difficulties of our
phase. It really doesn't matter what other people are dealing with;
their mastery of their circumstances doesn't need to make us feel
shame for the measly mastery (or survival?) of our own. Nor does it
matter if anyone really gets how hard you have it. (That one is hard
for me to believe. I am preaching to myself here.) I want my focus to
be on thanksgiving because I have the security of God's love, authorization to do my job well, and approval through his Son. Yes, I will probably be up half the night
cuddling and nursing a little sweetie who doesn't feel well, and I
need grace. I will need to be gentle and not expect too much from
myself for the next couple of days. I also can choose to be so
grateful that I get to love, hold, and raise this baby that I dreamed
of and wanted so intensely and
that my other babies did indeed grow, sleep through the night, and
are able to get dropped off, and picked up, and dropped off, and
picked up, and...
So,
thanks, Facebook, for allowing me to look back at the Jeskies of the
past. Do I chuckle a bit at complaints from my earlier selves? Yeah,
a little, but I give them credit too because I hope that I'll be
gracious to 2015 Jesky someday.
I am happy for me for every rock show I attended, every paycheck I
received, and every, oh! every long shower.
May it never be said
of me that I missed my chance to enjoy these children during this
brief time that they are young because I was too busy making sure
everyone knows that it's hard, but, Lord, give me the grace to admit when it is!
