I’ve been crazy busy. And when I haven’t been crazy busy I’ve been sleeping. Between the two, I’ve had little time to workout or write. (Hence, my absence from this space.) And of course, I’m starting to feel it in my body and my soul.
So here I am. Writing.
I thought about forcing a topic, but instead I decided to flow with the fact that it’s Monday and on Monday I direct my words to motherhood, in general, or my motherhood specifically.
The girls’ school is celebrating Spirit Week all week long and today was “Rock Star Day.” Yesterday I had a long day of ministry, traveling with our Pastor to Princeton and Somerset for services. Hubby had the girls all day. When I arrived home, after catching up on cuddles, I went right into preparing for Monday. After packing snacks, Big Girl reminded me that today was the first day of Spirit Week. She was concerned about her outfit. I assured her that I had it under control and that she would be a Rockin’ Rock Star.
And rockin’ they were. It was obvious when we arrived at the school that I took Rock Star Day waaaay more seriously than other parents. The only real effort I put into their outfits was cutting the tights. Otherwise it was simply a matter of layering. But clearly, I am THAT mom. And I am proud of it. I do it for them: watching Baby Girl slide her shades over her eyes and strut into her classroom was priceless. And honestly, I also do it for me.
As a child, my mother’s absence at certain school events, particularly when other mothers were present, left me feeling unimportant. Don’t get me wrong, my mother did the BEST she could, but she worked a lot. A lot. As a parent now, I get it. (And I don’t fault her.) It takes money to sustain and provide stability for a family. And while my head totally gets it, my heart—both my seven year old heart and my forty one year old heart—still aches to see my mom in the crowd. (To her credit, she finds her way across state lines as often as she can to be in my “amen corner” when I have a preaching engagement.)
So I go all out. I show up. I cut tights. I probably overcompensate.
Just last week when I was in Nashville celebrating with Rev. Dr. Bestie, I missed the Mother’s Day tea at school. I had explained to the girls that I was going to be away. They were fine with it, even devising a plan to celebrate me when I returned on Monday (which they did). I felt good about it—after all, I hadn’t missed a Halloween parade, Birthday Party, or Mother’s Day Tea to date. I felt good until I received a photo of my Big Girl in her class, sitting without me at the tea. She was happy, but my heart sunk. I put myself in her place and grieved all the times I wanted my mommy to be present and she wasn’t there.
After a few minutes in my feelings I was fine. God reminded me that I am doing the best that I can, just as my mother had. God reminded me that missing one tea was not going to scar her for life. God reminded me that I had cooked days worth of food and laid out clothes so they’d be set while I was away. God also reminded me that I needed that time away to enjoy a time of renewal so I could show up, go all out, and give my girls the mom they deserve.
I don’t know how to end this post. This is not what I planned to write when I started, but rather is where my heart took me. All I wanted to do was share some words and pictures from Rock Star Day as a way of honoring my commitment to write and share on this blog. I thought about not posting it, but I’m embracing the idea that there is power, healing and freedom in telling our truth and being vulnerable. I’m also embracing the truth that while I am not a perfect mom, I am a Rock Star Mom!