The Good Mom

Some women are born to be mothers. They're patient, even-tempered, kind, creative, either really structured or carefree, and poop doesn't gross them out. I am not one of them. Now, I'm not some terrible mother who beats my children or puts them in front of a TV for 8 hours a day, but I'm definitely not one of those stellar mothers that people write books about. And no, I'm not using some kind of false humility to try to get everyone to respond with an, "But Audrey! You're a great mother!" comment (that includes you, Mom). I have plenty of things that I'm awesome at: making chocolate chip scones, playing volleyball, ping-pong, taking tests (have I ever mentioned that I LOVE taking tests like the SAT, ACT, and GRE?), and reading a map. However, motherhood just isn't one of those things that comes naturally to me.

My mom is freakin' awesome. She always came up with cool, fun things to do and field trips to take. When I threw baking flour all over the kitchen, rather than get mad, she grabbed a handful and chucked it at me. When I flooded the bathroom floor with my sister so we could "skate" on it, she simply told us to make sure we wiped it up when we were done. And she made really good brownies and cookies. And she loves Jesus, and it showed.

I, unfortunately for my kids, inherited the patience of my father, whom I love dearly, but let's be honest -- when "patience" and "mercy" come in at a 0 on those spiritual gifts surveys ... it may not be your strong suit. I have a quick temper; I get over it easily and don't hold a grudge, but it doesn't take much to set me off (anyone who played sports with me in high school knows this). I'm also really OCD, which means I hate when things are out of order. And with 2 kids under 2, things are always out of order. And I'm someone who likes a schedule, but lacks the motivation to really implement one, thus I'm not carefree enough like some moms to just go with the flow, so I get mad that I'm not scheduled and routined like other moms. It's a vicious cycle. And I hate poop. HATE it. But since I like to be both cheap and environmentally friendly, I use cloth diapers. Which means I have to clean the poop out of them and can't just throw it away like most people. So every time one of my kids poops, I get mad at them. Now, of course I realize it's a good thing that they poop, but seriously -- could they not do it at a scheduled time so I could put a disposable diaper on them for those 30 minutes and then go about the rest of my day?! Drives me nuts. Oh, and now that Malachi is in the "coloring" phase, I have to sit there and watch him scribble. I'm no artist, but the one "art contest" I won as a kid was a coloring contest, because I can sure as heck color in the lines (it's part of my OCD personality). So, after Malachi finishes scribbling, I actually go back and re-color his pictures to make sure everything is colored in correctly before mounting it on the refrigerator. I'm pretty sure this qualifies me for the "worst mom in the world" award.

There are lots of times in the day when I feel like I'm going to go crazy. I've been known to just stare at both kids who are sitting there making messes or whining or coloring outside the lines and just scream (not really at them -- just at the sky), because I can't take it anymore. I sometimes envy those working moms who can actually converse with people older than 2 about something besides grilled cheese, Elmo, and how inappropriate it is to jump on top of your brother when he's a baby. At the same time, I can't imagine leaving my kids either. They make me laugh. They give me kisses. They teach me a lot about my own selfishness and pride. And what I think I'm learning the most about this whole Mom gig, is that for maybe one of the first times in my life, I can't rely on myself -- my brains, my work ethic, my "hand-eye coordination" -- to "do" this parenting thing. It is so totally beyond any intelligence or ability I have on my own, that the only thing I can do is give up and give it to God. I'm not going to be "the perfect mom." I'm going to screw up. I'm going to put Malachi in a 30-minute time-out sometimes simply because I can't take it anymore (well, maybe I'll try to stop that).

But God gave us these kids, and I love them dearly. And ultimately, He's the one in control of their hearts. I will hopefully help them see how much God loves them, and hopefully help them become responsible, kind, hard-working kids who love God and love people, but their hearts aren't up to me -- that's God's responsibility. So maybe instead of putting all this pressure on myself or beating myself up when I screw up once again, I should just start trusting God more and trusting myself less. I definitely don't have it all together, but He does. And it's nice to know that someone does. And who knows ... maybe someday I'll finally develop a little patience. Miracles do happen, right?