Me as Mother

Virtuous and Terrible.  That is me as Mother.  Since I have become:

“Mummy……….

Mummeeeeeeeee!”

Demanding and demanded.  Giving and totally spent.

Usually, simply because of the comparable percentage of time spent alone with them, it’s me and not their Daddy who bears the brunt of our children’s excessive delightfulness and sheer selfish rudeness.  I discover both virtue and terror from me more and more as we continue to raise our kids.

Lovely complicated girls.  3 of them to enjoy and contend with:

Sharing and Thinking. Laughing and Crying. Singing and Dancing. Creating and Learning. Reading in their pyjamas and Cartwheeling in the grass. Styling and Making up.

Needling each other. Ignoring me. Complaining. Saying Yes, but actually just carrying on Doing their Own Thing. Talking back and always wanting the Final Word. “Shut Up, you Idiot!”. Elbowing. Kicking. Screaming…

And also by certain external reports (from schools, from friends) – Our children have variously or individually been: Lovely.  Generous.  Kind.  Calming.  Helpful.  Friendly… Some even have said they wished theirs could grow up the same way.  At least once, our kids have been examples to be followed and aspired to.

Perhaps in most of these things – the good and the bad – they are copying their mother. Showing off me : the best and worst in me. Showing me the best and the worst in me.

I admire the life in these amazing kids and see in them my own imagined and admittedly self-obsessed reflection:

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I shock me, how awesome and awful I am!

Even with the ideas of virtue and terror shining through, I have become a thief!  I’m stealing from Rachel Cusk, who wrote in “A Life’s Work: On Becoming a Mother”:

“In motherhood , I have experienced myself as both more virtuous and more terrible, and more implicated in the world’s virtue and terror, than I could from the anonymity of childlessness have thought possible”

Virtue of sacrifice?

And indeed, I have discovered I would and have and do sacrifice myself for them. My days. My energies.  I change my habits to lead by example.  I become a near-ridiculous sounding multi-tasking mother ; business woman, church volunteer, triathlete, your in-house nutritionist, writer…  I change my ambitions because I want to be with them.  How much more virtuous may I become?

In this am I like Jesus?  In certain ways, I am full of grace!  I almost-graciously give things up all the time for them!  And I do believe I wouldn’t care if one had just kicked the other… I’m almost sure I’d still die for her…

I discover myself to be a proud and raging lioness!  I am privileged and blessed to have all the resource available to me to become so.  But how does this aptitude to be a maternal lioness help anyone else in the world?  To you and your child?

Sorry to you.  The truth is that mainly you’re excluded.

Mine is a selfish love.

Although, I can think of these two inclusive factors:

  1. Even as I am selfishly hoarding my love for my own precious and peculiar family, at least, I have this new understanding of what it is to be a parent.  I feel like this connects me to and heightens my compassion for other parents – not least for my own parents.  Also, I can now relate to the desperation of other parents wanting the best for their children.  I get it.  Each of us are doing the best we can with what we have and what we can get.
  2. Having now become and lived and committed as a mother I feel I understand more of how God loves me.  I understand more of how God loves you.  Viscerally I experience the gut of it.  Esoterically I embrace the wonder of it.

I don’t want to be selfish, even though it comes scarily naturally to me.

I read my bible and it’s told me why I’m here.  I’m here to be salt and light for God.  To show others His great gift of love: the amazing gracious exchange He made of His life for ours.  And I believe it.  And therefore I know my life should not be all about me, but about others.

And I do give.  I have certainly become more generous over the years.  I do know where I can and do make a difference to other people’s lives, where I’ve committed personally and as part of our own wonderful and wild and impactful church to keep on giving…

And yet I still wonder, how in this place of my own weakness: Am I really Jesus’ hands and feet…

Do I have any real giving love left over for anyone else?  After God, after family… ?  Any time or patience or focus left even for work?  Any margin set aside of non-irritation for others?

Just off the top of my head, I can reel off the ideal: Love is patient.  Love is kind.  Love does not make demands.  It doesn’t boast.  It is certainly not irritable like me.

I don’t live up to the full ideal of any of it, to be frank.  What’s more, I’d rather not be forced to learn all those virtues by being tested!  Lord, give me patience…. and give it to me RIGHT NOW!

I am Human.

Lately I’ve been experimenting to see if I can work my business – all the admin and management, along with the cooking, the shopping, the washing, the tidying, the kids, the church work, the renovation etc. – by myself without the help I previously paid for.

Result:

I’ve realised I definitely do need help.  I’ve sometimes felt I can’t manage at all any more.  I’ve let go and let people down.  I’ve freaked out at my kids and my own inability – I’ve snapped or I’ve screamed.

A couple of times over these Summer holidays spent at home trying to do it all myself, I seem to stand beside myself critically watching me as I scream at a child, imploring her sole attention.  I disturb myself.

(I notice my volume has tended to increase as they’ve aged. Is it their listening that is now impaired or is it my patience that is decreasing as they enter teenage-hood?   So please, help me God.)

As I watch myself from the side (so to speak) behaving so noisily, I do understand what I’m trying to achieve by ranting.  A part of me is choosing this approach so I try to be gracious towards my own ingenious devices.  While I sometimes apologise to the kids I try not to be too hard on myself.   Those kids affect me.  May I not reveal my own humanity?

At the same time, I despise the admirably-high decibel levels I can sometimes achieve.  I daydream of a calm mother I knew who always had a gentle word even when reprimanding…Oh Cathy Michael, if only I would keep that musically-even speaking tone of yours!

Why can’t I be like that?  Isn’t that Jesus’ true love shining through?

Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”(Matthew 19:14, NIV)

And the children wanted to crowd around.  Jesus was a kid magnet, of course!

Wouldn’t I rather be like that?… I’m not sure if I’d want all those kids around all the time, if I’m honest.  I’d need my space and quiet.  For sure, I often have to ask my own kids to even just stop their singing for a bit.  To be fair, they’d sing non-stop otherwise.

Although I don’t for one minute believe it’s the right approach, in the heat of the moment, I reason that by screaming occasionally, I’m seeking to achieve a reaction from my children which seems not to be coming easily through other means.  Though I’d prefer the feeling of remaining calm, I allow my flesh and emotions to win over momentarily to see what solution a rowdy display might discover to the disobediences of the children.  In the fight for my own victory of control!

Isn’t this the true battle?  Control of uncontrollable children!

That sounds terrible… Am I really choosing to be controlling?  Or is this really a battle within myself for no reason?  That seems so unproductive!

I now remind myself I have the gift of Grace and the power that is in that.  Jesus died for me too.

A dramatic moment or two on the floor lying face-down…

Mother is not talking, she is simply Dying to Self!

Literally.  There I lie, in silence.  Face-down on the kitchen floor.  As I do, I am secretly thinking… that will shock my children into listening!  This will make them take some positive action!!

(Haha, I’ve actually tried this a few times and it did calm me down and cause them to take notice.  Call me nothing if not Spectacular!)

Then I pick myself up.  I keep going.  Invariably the children and I discuss the issues.  We get through to the next level with a greater understanding of each other.  By the grace of God.

Surely this screaming is not pointless?  The bible says that his grace is made perfect in my weakness.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. (2 Corinthians 12:9, NIV)

The bible also says God works all things for good for those who love and serve the Lord…  And I try to love and serve the Lord, that’s my first and most honourable intention!

Are you building my muscles again Lord?  There should be something out of this surely!  Vocal exercises, perchance?  Or simply an understanding of how to lose and loose control…

I am flawed even though I am encompassed by the perfect love of Christ.  I am changing as I grow.  This is me and I’m okay.  God made me and knows me even now I am a mother.  All over the floor unpacked.  In need of God’s grace every time.

And Grace is beside me right there on the floor when I need it.  Empowering me as a mother to calm down and pick up and try again.

Along with my kids – to give me a caring cuddle and say I love you Mummy.

Thank you, God.

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