Motherhood in the Middle
This post was originally written several years ago and has been lightly edited for clarity and relevance. It reflects my thoughts and experiences from that season of life.
With Mother’s Day approaching, this may not feel like the ideal time to write something like this, but this is part of motherhood too. It isn’t all lollipops and fruit snacks. I spent the better part of an evening recently in tears, trying to figure out how to create more peace and balance for my family.
Tears equal passion, not weakness.
I wish I were more naturally put together, but I tend to live somewhere between grace and chaos. I want to learn how to fold laundry with my toes because my hands are busy helping with homework, doing dishes, coordinating schedules, and managing the endless logistics of family life. Add in grocery shopping, meal planning, cooking meals that are supposed to be healthy, and somehow remembering to exercise so I can keep up with it all.
Then there’s the emotional labor—refereeing sibling arguments that far outnumber the crumbs crushed into the car seats, keeping the dog from eating my shoes, staying vaguely aware of fashion trends, and maintaining a house that looks presentable enough in case company stops by unexpectedly. [Insert eye roll here.]
Being a mom is hard. And I often wonder why no one talks about that at baby showers or during those nine months of anticipation. No one tells you that your sweet, angelic child may one day look at you with rage in their eyes and declare, “You’re the worst parent ever. I hate you.” And somehow, you’re expected to absorb that emotional punch and keep showing up—because you’re the adult.
No amount of advice, parenting books, or well-meaning conversations could have prepared me for how demanding this role would be. Motherhood feels less like a well-mapped journey and more like being tossed into the deep end and hoping you figure out how to swim. Forget white picket fences—this is more like permanent marker art on the couch.
Motherhood is not for the faint of heart.
But, here’s the part you knew was coming —> There are a few things I am learning in the middle of all this chaos.
First, I adore my children. Deeply. Fiercely. Completely. The word love doesn’t even begin to cover it. Yes, they test me and hurt my feelings sometimes, but I would choose this life again and again. I am entrusted with these children for a season, and I’m profoundly grateful for that calling.
Second, I owe my mom a million apologies and endless thanks for loving me through my own chaos. Thank you, Mom.
Third, I don’t believe the phrase “God only gives us what we can handle.” Because if that were true, I wouldn’t need Him. And I very much need Him. I need Jesus like I need air.
As Mother’s Day approaches, I find myself asking a simple question:
Am I better than I was a year ago?
That’s all I can really aim for. To grow, to learn, to keep showing up as the person God is shaping me to be. I’m letting go of the pressure to be perfect and learning to embrace who I actually am.
This season also invites me to honor the women who have mothered me so well, like my mom, who models grace, humor, generosity, and love, and my mother-in-law, who has welcomed me fully and continues to teach me so much.
Motherhood is complicated. It is beautiful and exhausting, joyful and heavy, sacred and stretching.
Happy Mother’s Day.
