I Am Not A Pinterest Mom

Awhile back, I wrote on the Facebook wall of a friend from another era. Just a "Hey, how are you doing?" kind of hello. He asked me if I had beaten Pinterest yet. I wanted to kick him in the teeth.

Truth: I love Pinterest. It combines the two things I love most in this world after God, my family, and adoption: images and information. I am almost entirely visual. I cannot handle being told anything verbally unless I have a pen and paper. Pinterest beautifully weaves together my learning style and passion for knowledge into a blanket of lovely. If you scroll through my Pinterest you will notice that every single pin is my style of aesthetically pleasing. There are two notable exceptions: home school information (which pains me that no one has made a pretty graphic for all of it) and things I post for Marko. I have a problem.

I try every recipe I post.
I sew every clever project I pin.
I plan out every housing project I would do if only my pockets were deeper.
I create home school curriculum.
I honestly spend more time just scrolling through my own pins and admiring all the pretty images than anything else.
Except maybe the "Kiddo" tab.

 

Adorable.

And the Kiddo tab is my undoing. I consistently find pictures and stories that bring me to tears - happy or sad. It's ridiculous. But also found on the Kids tab are parenting articles. I'll admit (with extreme prejudice) that sometimes I find a blog that I find humorous or informative, but mostly it just makes me feel like a failure. My son is 13 months old and nowhere close to sleeping through the night - or in his own bed. We don't have a washer/dryer so we can't do cloth diapers (don't get me started, I fully understand how uneconomical and un-ecological disposables are). I tell him "No" more often than I would like. I get frustrated with him when all he wants is my attention because I want to get something done. I am upset because we live in a way that means I work part-time and I don't get to be a stay-at-home mom. I never actually got around to teaching Rory sign language. We didn't do any cute month-by-month pictures. And he ate peanut butter and strawberries before he turned one.

Lord help me.

I consistently forget to get my son breakfast before 11am. Sometimes he doesn't go to bed until 10:30 because I don't feel like making it a battle.When Rory throws a tantrum, I often forget to calmly explain to him the what and why and just throw a tantrum back. A "well balanced lunch" is regularly frozen blackberries with bread dipped in peanut butter and jam. I use sarcasm (in case you weren't aware) and realized yesterday that I have been actively trying to teach my one-year-old to throw things (plushy footballs, but still). I swear, I have little-to-no sense of time, I let Rory play with any tool that has no sharp edge, and enjoying watching Criminal Minds while he plays with his toys next to me.

I am winning no parenting awards.

Last week while hanging with my wonderful girlfriend, Becca, we were discussing what it meant to let God "love on you" and we came to the decision that it was a balance of accepting who God has made you to be and really living into that. The analogy I decided on was yoga (you're surprised, I know). In yoga, there is no perfect pose because the goal of each pose is actually to go beyond physical limits; putting your forehead to your shins is not the objective, the objective is to go through your shins into the earth - but that's impossible. You are constantly accepting where you are while striving to go further in yoga. And that's what it is like to let God love on you.

And that's what it's like to be a parent.

I have the perfect example laid out for me in scripture. A Father who loves me unconditionally, who calls me back when I have wandered, whose heart breaks when my own is broken, who forgives me all of my many many transgressions. And I will never compare. Not to the Pinterest Moms, and certainly not to God. But one of those is worth striving towards and one of them isn't. Some perspective is in order here. Who cares if I potty train my son in three days as long as he is unconditionally loved?

At this point, all I can do is pray for wisdom, strength, and have another cup of coffee. Because being a mom is never going to get easier - just different. And there will be one million voices telling me I'm doing it wrong, but there will always be at least one telling me even though I will always do it wrong, it's still worth trying.

With Every Broken Bone, I Swear I Lived

My son is a darling.

A strong willed, vocal, stubborn, decisive, independent darling.

You're surprised, I know.

I love Rory. He is truly a blessing and he is so sweet and well-behaved for others. He is kind and likes to share, he loves to talk and laugh, and he is also bold and a risk-taker. But at 1:00am when I am up for the umpteenth time and he pulls my hair or screams at me? I begin to wonder if I am really cut out for this.

"A sweet and obedient child will enroll and father or mother only in Parenting 101. If you are blessed with a child who tests your patience to the nth degree, you will be enrolled in Parenting 505. Rather than wonder what you might have done wrong in the premortal life to be so deserving, you might consider the more challenging child a blessing and opportunity to become more God-like yourself. With which child will you patience, long-suffering, and other Christlike virtues most likely be tested, developed, and refines? Could it be possible that you need this child as much as this child needs you?"

Lynn G Robbins

I have never heard of Lynn G Robbins, but I adore her already. I needed this. I needed the reminder that when people ask "Is he always this sweet?" my response needs to be one of kindness and truth - not begrudging angst about the night before. And the truth is that Rory is a blessed gift regardless of whether he is sweet all the time. He comes with angry sobs of frustration that he isn't big enough and needy nights, fevers that leave him a sweaty mess and dirty diapers, days where all he wants is to be held and many many growing pains. But I have this opportunity to experience a different kind of growing pain, a maturing that only comes with a child who tests you. And damn, does it ache.

Rory's real gift to me is not just his sweet smile or his laugh. It isn't the waving or "mama." It isn't the ability to watch him grow or know that I created him. It is the patience that comes at 3:00am when all I really want to do is duct tape him to the wall. It is the love that comes when he's screaming at me about I have no idea what. It is the laughter even though I haven't had a shower in three days. It is the appreciation of alone time with my husband.

I don't know what my life would be without Rory - whether I would "have more fun" or stay up later or if I would already be traveling or have more money or more energy or what. But I do know, my life is one million times better because I have him. I am one million times better. And I wouldn't trade all my exhaustion or all of my joy for my life before.

Dinosaur AND Ninja