I feel my blood pressure rising as I try to tweak the font on my blog, exerting the same mental energy as if I were in a foreign country trying to speak a new language. I’m working frantically, eyes on the clock and aware of the approaching deadline to get my new site up and launched.
My decision to revamp my outdated website in time for the virtual event I’m involved in seemed logical a few weeks ago, but now I’m wondering what I was thinking. Two sick kids at home and consequently zero days of uninterrupted work time have made it impossible to focus long enough to finish a task.
My brain feels stretched thin. My heart beats faster. My stomach is tight, with occasional flutters that almost feel like excitement but are actually signaling an internal panic.
I recognize anxiety in my body before I can even wrap words around it. I take a deep breath.
“Mom, I need you to check my work!” I hear on one side, where my daughter is sitting at her desk doing her virtual assignments. “Why are you always on your computer?”
The floodgates of mom guilt spill open.
I breathe again, slowly, working to suppress the urge to defend myself as I take the worksheet she’s handing me. I am not always on my computer.
But I do have work that needs to get done today, and my kids are here with me while I’m doing it. And it’s hard for all of us.
This season is difficult, for so many reasons. It almost feels cliche to say it anymore, naming the obvious struggle that we’re collectively experiencing. All of us have shifted how we do life this year, and many families have made significant adjustments to accommodate online learning.
No matter what things looked like before, we’ve all had to sacrifice to make life work this year.
Maybe you’ve given up the freedom to go to work and come home at the end of the day.
Maybe you’ve given up the time you used to have when your kids were at school to check off tasks or meet people or be productive in ways you can’t when they’re home.
Maybe you’ve given up the ability to focus on one thing at a time without having your attention pulled in multiple directions simultaneously.
Maybe you’ve given up time to exercise, sleep, connect with friends, or do other things that help you stay healthy.
(Side note: Moms of littles, I see you. This is your whole life right now.)
You want to do all the things well, but there’s only so much of you to go around.
I’m right there with you.
The tension between supporting my people at home and doing work beyond these walls makes me feel like I’m failing to do anything well.
Am I a bad mom for working at the table next to my kids while they do school online? No, they’re learning with me how to persevere and be flexible.
Am I neglectful for closing my bedroom door and letting them play without my direct supervision? No, they’re old enough to stay out of danger and it’s healthy for them to develop independence.
Am I selfish for prioritizing work or self-care, even when it means my family has to fill in gaps I’ve usually got covered? No! It’s good for everyone in our family to learn to give and receive support from one another.
Maybe I need to redefine what it means to do things well.
My inability to meet my own expectations allows me the opportunity to examine where those expectations are even coming from.
I spent way too many years believing that my kids needed me to be available for them 24/7 in order to thrive. I thought the only way I could be the mom they needed was to give up anything that took me away from that role.
The truth is, my kids need to see firsthand what it looks like for me to embrace the messy process of becoming who I was created to be.
I want them to see me learning to ask for help and receiving it graciously.
I want them to understand that the world, and even our family, does not revolve around them.
I want to teach them to celebrate when they (and others) are able use their gifts to build others up.
I want them to develop grit, independence, and courage to try new things.
As painful as it is to let go of my old ways of functioning within our family, maybe my inability to do all the things for all my people isn’t such a failure after all.
It just might be the opportunity we all need to grow more into the people we’re becoming.
And for my fellow mamas who feel like you’re dropping the ball: you’re not. Your best is enough. Your kids will always want more of your time, attention, energy, and care because you’ve made them feel safe enough to ask for it.
But they’re going to be okay without you for a bit. You’re not failing. You’re teaching them how to be human, limits and all. And that, mama, is exactly what they need.