Sometimes I wish I could be a fly on another mom's wall. Just to see what a "normal day" looks like at another home. We have a routine that we try to stick to, some days it goes well, and other days it doesn't. But generally, I do my best to make our mornings at home productive. Meaning plenty of play time, craft time, book reading, cooking together in the kitchen {we make a lot of smoothies and dough together} and anything that doesn't involve the TV being on before 1pm. 

Some days this all goes wonderfully and I think "yay, I love being a mom!", and other days I feel defeated before we even start. I wake up wondering how in the world I'm going to muster the energy and motivation and patience that I know I need but just isn't there. I make a point to ask God to help me be good to my boys before I even get out of the bed. But as much as I know that He's with me and ready to help me every second of my day and that I would utterly fail without Him, being a mom is still one of the most challenging and demanding things I've ever done.

I love taking photos of the boys and capturing them in the good moments, and there are so many good moments. I don't want to minimize the absolute blessing of motherhood. It means so much more to me than a job or a hobby ever has. But I also don't want to paint an unrealistic picture of it. What you don't see in the photos are the tantrums, the fighting, the food all over the floor, the toilet paper unrolled all over the bathroom for the thousandth time, the whining over nothing, and worst of all, my selfish, impatient, and sometimes explosive reaction to it. Granted, the long cold winter indoors and being massively pregnant and tired doesn't help. But oh my goodness, sometimes it's just plain hard no matter what the circumstances.

And to be perfectly honest? Sometimes it's the days that I give up and don't worry over the details that are the best; the days that the TV is on way too long that I get the space to just relax and stop tallying the success or failure of my every move. I do my best to not let those days happen too often... But when they do, I'm learning to be okay with it. I don't want to be a super-mom. Whatever that really means, it sounds exhausting. I'm okay with being a far-from-perfect mom that leans on Jesus and finds her identity in who He says I am; loved, accepted, redeemed, forgiven, most definitely imperfect, but empowered for good by His strength. And then passing the knowledge of Him onto my boys.

I know I'll never be a perfect mom. But I want to be one that shows them what it means to rely on God, ask for forgiveness, and humbly press on when sin gets the best of me {yet another thing I need to work on doing better}. I'd rather have it that way than to parade a false exterior of perfection that masks the bankrupt nature of our souls apart from our Redeemer.

This isn't a self-serving anthem to quit trying, because I always want to do my best. I think it's more of a realization that "my best" is often a moot point when it's anchored in anything else other than Christ. And it's when I get my gaze fixed on Him- where it belongs- that He brings me out of the fog long enough to remember that I am blessed beyond belief. That I'm an undeserving but ever grateful daughter of God and that I have a beautiful family that I would not trade for the world.

All this being said, I still want to peak in on the day to day lives of other moms! I still want to feel like I'm doing okay and to remember that we're in this together. To have the fellowship and community and support that only others in these {very busy} shoes can offer. Isn't it wonderful when we do get that? I am so thankful to all of you who rejoice with me, sympathize with me, and just flat out understand the blessing and challenge of motherhood!


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