Let me start this post, by stating emphatically that I love my life, like love it. I love my husband. I love my kids. I love my God. I even love the towering piles of laundry that never seem to completely vanish and the dust that seems to settle on every surface of my house after only one day.
I love the curves that my hips have formed from carrying not one, not two, but three children in my belly. I love knowing that I might never look the same, that the stretch marks on my body exist to prove my love for those children. I even love the way my fatigue from a newborn has made blogging seem less important, less notable, because well, it is.
But still.
Sometimes these days, only sometimes, I dream of being away. Somewhere, anywhere, that is free. Free from incessant, often piercing toddler tantrums. Free from middle-of-the-night baby cries that pull me from a deep sleep only to leave me laying awake in a warm bed, remembering what real sleep once felt like.
I dream of being free.
Free from insurmountable amounts of housework, that not even a pioneer woman could deplete. Free from the wildly surging hormones that rush through my body, desperate to make me cry and laugh at the same exact time. Free from the pressure I place upon myself to write, to be creative, to do it again and again.
Yet, I know, that deep down, leaving these things behind wouldn’t actually make me free. And it’s not so much that I want to leave them, as much as I want to be alone.
That sounds bad, doesn’t it?
Alone.
But, look at that word, sitting there…floating there, all by itself on the page. It looks (it sounds) heavenly to me. I wish I could wrap myself around that small, seemingly trivial word, never to be seen or heard from again. Well, that is until I once again feel rested and restored, whatever that means.
Instead, I often drift from day to day as a ghost of my former self. I once felt unstoppable. Energetic. Energized. Sexy (is that okay for a Christian woman to share?). Someone worth knowing.
Now, it seems I question everything. I second guess myself. I second guess God. I re-play events in my mind, certain that if given the chance I would have done things differently that time around.
But those times don’t come–those second chances, do they? They are only a part of my foggy-minded daydreaming. Reality is much sharper and crisper. It stings of regret for the things I didn’t do, but also somehow simultaneously it tastes of the sweet, resplendent promise in Jesus.
He is such a God of second chances. He is the God of Next Time Around. He is a believer in me, even when I am too exhausted, crazed, emotional, reckless, and scared to believe in myself.
And He knows I need to be alone. Alone. To sit and dwell in stillness, that locking a bathroom door and yelling “Give me 5 minutes! Pleeeeezee!” is not quite the same. And I’ll get there.
I really will get there. He’ll get me there…
Laundry will be folded. Dishes washed. Children washed. Feet washed, in His splendid grace.
I’ll get there. I may be tired and longing when I do, but still..
But still.
This has been my days, these days. What about you? How have you been these days?
Hands down the best “Mommy-blog” I’ve ever read. This. This gives me hope for one-day motherhood.
I sometimes despair when I read the blogs (and facebook postings) of older married friends with young children. They are godly women who have gushed to me of how they waited, prayed and hoped to be wives and mothers, encouraging me to wait, and praying with me. They subtly complain of days filled with whining children, and publicly long for days of singlehood long past. I don’t fault them this – I’m sure the desire is genuine and any reprieve would be well earned. But there are days that I wish I could shake them and say, “You CHOSE this! Why are you acting as thought it’s been inflicted upon you?!” On such days I wonder if I’m crazy for desiring a family at all. I try to convince myself I will remember what it feels like to read those things as a single person, that even if I one day feel the same, at least I won’t make it public knowledge.
Thank you for being hopeful in your vulnerability.
Bekah, you are right, I did choose this. I think that is such an important point. So many moms, I think, feel trapped or stuck because they did not choose their life. Rather, it was chosen for them.
I think my sense of responsibility and of hope, very much comes from the fact that this life was a conscious decision, not a series of unfortunate events.
Thank you for being inspired to be a mom someday and that this post didn’t scare the bajeebas out of you.
I get it Nicole. I want that alone thing too. I am also a little anxious to start some new things this year. We have been out of sorts for a year since some health and accident issues and we are ready to get back at it. The whole country here is open to us and so there is just to many options. I am anxious to jump and scared to jump the wrong way at the same time. AAAAHHH. Prayer time.
Love your writing, friend. I know life must be so busy and pulling you in many directions. Although I don’t have children, I understand the demands and the desire to be free. An older, wiser friend once said to me that we can only do one thing well. The older I get, the more I think she’s right, although if you look at my life, you would see that I pretend to believe otherwise. Praying for you as you are in the midst of this season.
I understand completely. Great post!
Thanks Jessica.
So there with you.
I wish I could quit and go live in a monastery.
Some women dream of a romantic night away. I dream of being alone.
With small children, I def spend more time in a less impressive mental space. I wonder where I went, why I’m so angry, and when I will be able to find myself again.
It’s a season. Thankful for that hope.
Thanks for the vulnerability. As a husband and father, your post helped me to understand a little more what my wife goes through at times (even though it’s been awhile since we’ve really little ones in the house).
Papa God, wrap Your loving arms around Nicole. Help her to experience Your loving and comforting presence around her. Fill her afresh with Your Holy Spirit and enable her to be all that You created her to be.
Steve, what a sweet, lovely prayer for me. I’m so touched. Thank you, friend. It means a lot.
Oh Nicole! How totally real this is!
As a Mum of four – who loves her husband and children – I totally identify with those days where you just get bored with it all! And tired. And disillusioned. And envious of all those people who the advertisers tell us are having endless fun, stimulation, fulfillment and sleep whilst we get to make another stack of sandwiches, mop up another spilled drink, unload the washing machine again and read the same story book for the fifteenth time…. since lunch time! And all the time we are mindful that lots of women envy us, and that we wished and prayed for this stage of our lives to come, and that the time is (we are told) fleeting and quickly to be remembered nostalgically and hopefully not regretfully…..
But when the day is like that you just get through it – and tomorrow is a new day! The stuff is likely to be identical but with prayer and determination the mindset can sometimes be different!
I am a little way ahead of you – my kids are aged 13, 12, 8 and 6 and I promise you that things change – they get easier (and harder…. but that’s a different story!) and it really is all worth it.
xxx
Anna, you said: “And all the time we are mindful that lots of women envy us, and that we wished and prayed for this stage of our lives to come, and that the time is (we are told) fleeting and quickly to be remembered nostalgically and hopefully not regretfully….. ”
Man, this rings true. I know others would desire to be in my place. I know I asked God for this…each child and the ability to be home with them. I know, intellectually, that this season will be gone in the blink of an eye, even when each day feels like Groundhogs Day.
Thank you for the encouragement and solidarity. You blessed me.
I have the blessing of being alone. It does allow the mind to relax, and I think it allows one to hear from God when He has something to say. That isn’t to say that I don’t want people time as well, but being alone does have its plus side.
Ed, I believe that you are an introvert like me and well, being alone is a necessary component to re-charging and re-fueling. Moms of little kids though, are rarely alone. I do steal away, however, knowing good and well that if I don’t I won’t be a good wife, mom, friend, or anything else. I am certainly envious of your time alone though.
Its like u read my journal…I’ve been going thru what I call a “mom-life” crisis, last week was not fun…definitely need that time alone!
Erin, Oh no! A mom-crisis? That’s never pretty. I’m gonna call you so we can see each other STAT!
Oh Nicole,
I just really needed to read this….as I type my house looks like an atomic bomb went off …we’ve already had 3 major tantrums today from my toddler and a baby that is so over tired and refuses to nap. I can so relate to everything you said. It is one of those days that I wish that I too could be alone even just for a minute or five so that I could take a shower. That being said, the Lord is teaching me that this period of time will be over before I know it and to be content with each season I am in. I so appreciate your vulnerability and hope you know you have so many people that share your thoughts!!
You are so right in that we need to learn, with the Lord’s help, how to be content in each season. I struggle with wanting to fast-forward my kids to a time that I imagine would be “easier.” But instead, I know I need to appreciate, cherish, and honor exactly where God has me each day.
I forwarded this to my wife….she appreciates your honest…letting her know she is not alone in these feelings…
Arny, thanks for sharing this with your wife. She is definitely not alone, and that sometimes makes all the difference.
Oh my sweet friend, I so love your heart and the way you reveal it in your writing. Once again you have struck just the right balance between universal issues and deeply intimate revelation. I’m in tears sitting at my desk at work reading this. I feel your frustration, weariness, joy and hope and they remind me of my own. There is something so poignantly beautiful about a life of duty…duty to God, duty to family. I don’t know when we started looking at it as a bad thing. It’s beautiful in its sacrifice and its dreams deferred. Knowing that doesn’t make the everyday any easier, but it makes it worth it, and you’ve captured that perfectly in this post.
I wish our culture would make more movies and art that would show the glory of the everyman/everywoman who does what they have to do because they choose to be faithful, not because they love every second of it or it feels good all the time, but because they are walking the path they are on and choosing to only escape in daydream moments and flights of fancy, with no idea of ever leaving the life they’ve made. We’ve seen the damage people do when they imagine that they can press a reset button on their life, regardless of the consequence to others. I think that it’s normal to feel like we want to do that now and then, so I also think it’s glorious and wonderful that we don’t. Thanks for the transparency and for striking such a chord with so many. <3
Embee, You said it all so well. Gosh, your comment could be its own post. There is such beauty in daily sacrifice, in doing the mundane, hard things, that bring sweet reward.
Thank you too, for seeing the hope in my writing this. I am hopeful, every day, even moment by moment. That is what makes being a mom inspiring. Thanks for sharing here MB.
*sigh* Nicole,
There is nothing more important than the raising of children. and being so, it will drain everything from you. The greatest tasks are often the most difficult. Not that I think for 1 second that my trite but true statement will make you feel any better today. But this is just a season I can say that with certainty. you hit the nail on the head when you said all you want is to be alone. All mother’s dream of that, or at least being able to go to the bathroom without someone sticking their fingers under the door, banging on the door, or crying from somewhere else in the house. I would like to offer some advice from some very wise people…flight attendants, “please secure your own oxygen mask before assisting your child”. I think they are really on to something with that. what good are you to you children if you are suffocating? you need to nurture yourself like you do you family and marriage. Hand the kids off to daddy and grab some much needed Nicole time. Or if that is not in the cards for your schedule right now save your sanity for a bit by making all kids nap or rest quietly in their rooms at the same time.
So go, put your kids to bed early and grab a glass of wine or just leave the house. My favorite place to go is the public library- it is so quiet and I can read a magazine and leave with stuff that I do not have to feel guilty about spending money on. But I already know I am a dork. I hope you feel better.
Misti, you are so sweet. Thank you for the kind words and encouragement. Thankfully, I think things sound a bit worse than they actually are. I don’t feel like I’m drowning. I’m just tired. A lot.
Fortunately too, I do have so much help from my mother-in-law, mom, and aunt. Plus, my husband is about as great as a daddy can get. I so agree that nothing is as important as raising children. It is a lifelong investment, much if the fruit of which isn’t seen for years. I’m still hopeful and thankful everyday for this privilege of motherhood which I’ve been given.
No matter what you love and choose, there will be those days, sometimes a lot of those days. I remember slamming the door behind me and walking for a mile or two or three, plotting how I could run away to Albuquerque and hide my identity so no one could find me and make a new life. Then I would look in my pocket and find a dime. Can’t buy much of a bus ticket on a dime. So I had to go back home.
One of the biggest blessings my dear husband would give me were occasional three-day vacations. I would hole up in a cabin and sew and listen to taped sermons etc. By the end of the third day I would be lonely and ready to go back. Until I walked in the house and saw what would take seven days to clean up.
Oh, how I loved this post. Your writing just keeps getting better and better- and this was beautiful. I relate to every word, and it reminded me of this video I love- about being alone… have you seen it? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k7X7sZzSXYs