busy is the new sleep deprived

i was never very good at the "mother of infant" era in this momdom gig.  i like(d) small babies.  i really, really did/do.   i just sort of found myself winding down to the end of the day and wishing that their batteries would wear out so that momma could get a solid 8 under her belt.

whenever i think back to that place in the motherhood, the image of the "older and wiser mother" always pops into my head.  you know the ones that i'm talking about and you run into them everywhere- the people that stop you and point out how tired you look, offer you a little bit of encouragement leaving you to feel like you might possibly survive the sleep deprivation stage that nobody bothered to tell you about pre-kids...  and then they drop the big whammy.  the older and wiser mother just loves to end every conversation with a newbie with...  "just wait.  it gets worse."

um?

thanks?

for nothing.

and have you lost your mind?  what could be worse than driving around the world feeling like you are in a fog, trying to figure out the perfect balance between too little coffee to function vs. too much coffee so that when i get those six minutes of sleep i'll ACTUALLY be able to sleep.  is it possible that exiting the "i left the keys in the front door and can't find them", "i forgot to remember to buy diapers for the 13th time", "i went downstairs only to totally forget why i am here but i know i came down here for a reason" could have a down side?

at the time it was hard for me to believe.  and i sort of wanted to throttle those mommas that that rained on my parade.  in the era of "sleep deprived" i needed to feel like some form of momma utopia was right around the corner.

if you are a new mom...  just stop reading.  now.  i am for reals because what i am about to share is so uncool and i know you will loathe me by the time you get to the end of this post.

i will backtrack here for a moment...

last year i KNEW i was in the end of sleep deprived.  my littlest pops was in the movement of breaking her "creep into momma's bed in the middle of the night" phase.  d was on her way to kindy and sweet p was about to go from 3 day 6-minute preschool to a four day 2 1/2 hour program.  i was holding on to the fact that "momma free time" was just around the corner.

and it was.

the fall held days of e and d marching off to school with p just an hour behind...  four whole days a week.  and it was hard to contain my excitement or hide my smile.  i love being with my girls.  i'll say that again.  i REALLY love being with my girls.  but doing so 24-7 can kind of get a momma down.  i longed for moments of silence.  i craved deep thought.  i pined for getting things done without constant distraction.

and as fall rolled into winter which blew into spring, i realized that while getting a solid 8, a momma could (and always would) still feel like life was not her own.

and it got me down for a bit.

and then i had this giant epiphany.

i hate the epiphany.  it washes away the selfishness and brings light to the reality...  and sometimes reality is a pill that is just hard to swallow.

but here it is...

the motherhood isn't about me.

yes, i said it.  this life and this world isn't about me.

it's about them and so much more.  and that is good.  ick.  hard...  but really, really good.  you see, when life is about me i get swarmed up in a bubble.  i am the insatiable girl that cries out for things of the flesh which never fulfill.

i am speaking in the abstract now, and that is never good.  let me get a bit more real.

as pops joined the school aged party and momma found herself sleeping more, i found myself feeling like i was always on the go.  my life was filled with alarm clocks and schedules and driving.... take this one here, pick that one up there, do homework with her, read this one a book, ask that one about this, and sort out that...  i felt like a juggler.  i always had two balls up in the air with one being caught and satiated while i was working on managing the other two.  and just as soon as i catch one of the balls in the air the next one pops up...  which i could have sworn was under control just one second ago.

there are homework assignments, spiritual applications, playdates, classes, sports, family activities, chores and the basic management of life.  and it never stops.

and it is hard.

really, really hard.

but the epiphany is this...

it draws me closer to God.  it has forced me to realize that in spite of my fleshly need to "get it all under control", i can't.  life is bigger than me and if i am to no longer feel overwhelmed and anxiety ridden, i need to hand it over.

but to who?

God.

God's got this.  He knows my limitations.  He knows my weaknesses.  He knows my "momma can't go on like this no more" situations.  and when i take it all to Him, He carries me.

and i swear, in the no longer sleep deprived but insanely busy phase of this life, anxiety doesn't rule me any longer.  overwhelmed isn't my resting place.  and busy can feel like a gift.

a gift?

has suburban momma gone stark raving mad?

maybe.  but hear me out.

when i have just a little bit more than i can handle, my go-to mode is crazy.  nobody does well in that mode.  and so when i see it emerge, i pray.  i spend some time on my knees asking for help, asking for peace, asking for serenity, asking for superhuman powers to get it all done...  maybe even with a smile on my face.

and in that asking i have seen God answer.  slowly.  gently.  perfectly.

He always draws me in and calms my soul.  He gives me a cancelation of this or a postponement of that when my week feels like too much.  there is always the friend who has no clue that the invitation for "momma's night out" or the long run on a random day will satiate me.  and i could chalk it up to mere coincidence.  i could.  (and for a while i did.)  but the truth is, it always happens just shortly after i have reached the end of my rope and throw my hands up in the air and cry out to God for help...

this post is random and somewhat disgruntled...

but what i am trying to say is this:

when the motherhood has got you down, always know that you are NOT alone.  you have purpose and value and meaning.  your life, while not your own, is HIS.  look for Him.  ask Him to meet you (you'll never know He's there if you don't ask), and expect for Him to show up.

He comes in the smile from a stranger at the till at the grocery store.  He emerges from the friendship that is formed on the kindy playground.  He illuminates from the momma that offers to help and the girl that tells you that you "got this".  He is all around.

and He was there in the sleep deprived, too.  but often, we miss Him.  we see people instead of seeing Him.  we forget that the arms and feet of an ever loving God show up through His creation... real live peeps.

these days, i look around me and i see a lot of other mommas in the same boat.  i see people running from here to get to there to meet the needs of their kiddos...  and they are longing to be encouraged and cheered on, and given rest.

the motherhood is a humbling place.  we can try to go it alone and most of the time that leaves us feeling defeated and depressed and less than, or we can cleave to Him and have sustenance.

and in the sustenance, i think it is very likely (almost probable) that we will see the face of a God who loves us and wants for us to see Him.

will you look?  will you let Him sustain you?  you will you give Him your anxiety, tired and oh so busy?

He wants you to....  because He really, REALLY wants to show you how much you matter to Him.