80/20

As I write it is 10pm Thursday night. I am still in my pj's and I have not brushed my teeth yet today. I have scrubbed two toilets and three sinks, folded a mountain (and I mean a mountain) of laundry, emptied the dish washer, loaded the dish washer, cleaned the kitchen, scrubbed the counters, picked up the house, vacuumed the entire upstairs, and did a safety precaution lice comb-through on my daughter. The day before that was pretty much the same except for that I worked on and completed our taxes.

This was not exactly what I had planned on doing these past two days, but such is life when your daughter comes to you both mornings telling you that she does not feel well and nods an affirmative when you ask her if she wants to stay home. You drop your agenda and let her stay home even though you know that she is really not sick sick and that she could probably go to school. (No fever, not even a stuffy nose, just a little cough.)

Sometimes motherhood is a path of sacrifices. We drop what we are doing for the sake of the needs of our children. We do it out of love. And we do it because sometimes there is no other choice. 

My letting her stay home was a decision based on the fact that she never misses school. She is hardly ever sick and so I think staying home was a treat for her, even though I made her do her homework and read. Honestly though, I wasn't a very nurturing mother for her in the last couple of days.  I found myself just "off". Short. Bleh. I think I fell short of her expectations of what it might look like to be home and "sick" and have your mother nurture you around the clock. My lack of energy had nothing to do with being stuck at home. (I kinda like being home.) It had everything to do with the fact that the last two weeks have been a bit packed with stuff and "to-do's" and I have hit my introverted limit. I am wise enough now to recognize this and, yes sir, I have hit my limit. I have nothing left to give. Maybe you are an introvert and you kind of know what I mean?

Anyway, I was reminded of something my good friend used to remind me of when I was a new mother. She used to tell me, "Tracey, you are an amazing mom 80% of the time. The other 20% is reserved for the not-so-amazing. Focus on the 80%."

Bean fell apart before bed time tonight, as she often does. She has always worn her exhaustion on her sleeve. I braided her damp hair, and tucked her in bed and read out of the Bible. I never remember to do this for her, read the Bible to her. (Part of that 20%.) But this night I heard a voice inside say, Psalm 23, so I opened up the book, laid it on her pillow in the dim light of her room, and read...

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures, 

he leads me beside quiet waters, 

he restores my soul.

Not exactly sure sometimes what this verse exactly looks like, but I think this was meant for the both of us tonight.

For Bean I think it looked like her mom rubbing her soft, warm back, singing her to sleep, giving her some smooches. A divine restoration expressed through the loving touch of her mother. In return, I felt  a surge of inexplicable love for her rush through my veins. Despite my exhaustion, I was reminded of that truth that she is an amazing creation...a soul worthy of the best kind of love I can give.

So for me, I think that divine restoration looks like a day or two of nothing. And I know that "nothing" will not appear out of nowhere. I need to make some choices that will help me to refuel: maybe a good book, listening to the rain, or a walk, or frequent daydreaming? What ever it is, I know I want to live in that 80% of amazing motherhood.

Happy weekend. :)

xoxo
T