
Cognitive Dissonance and the Upcoming School Year

Wait!!! What?!?!
Me? Not my kids’ savior?
But I’m a mom and I want to be. So very much.
I like saving them.
From pain.
From loss.
From danger.
From rejection.
From struggle.
From failure.
From judgment.
From conflict.
From bad choices.
From all that’s wrong with the world.
It feels really good.
For the moment.
But I know it’s not good.
For their hearts.
Because when I am their savior,
I am also “saving” them…
From growing.
From confidence.
From adventure.
From learning.
From independence.
From success.
From connection.
From responsibility.
From good choices.
From all that’s right with the world.
Doesn’t sound like much saving in the end.
Then what’s the point of this motherhood gig?
If it’s not for saving?
Hang on a minute.
Wait for it.
Wait for it.
What’s that still small voice whispering inside?
What’s that “aha moment” I can’t deny?
Has motherhood saved me?
Has it?
By…
bringing me JOY that I’ve never known before
revealing PATIENCE as I stumble along in the unknown
breathing HOPE when I need it the most
reminding me of BEAUTY in the ordinary moments
granting KINDNESS when I can’t find any in myself
allowing me to experience unconditional LOVE
opening my heart to see the tenderness of good good GOD
The question persists, but the answer comes.
PERHAPS IT HAS.
PERHAPS IT REALLY HAS.
It’s 1 am.
My five-month old cries out from her crib.
Not another night of this!
It’s been three weeks since I’ve had more than 3 hours of sleep in a row.
God, HELP me! HELP them!
I am barely functioning anymore, bags under my eyes the size of grapes!
I don’t think I can take it anymore!
I am SO done!
It’s 1 am.
My kindergartener screams from his room.
Why does this keep happening?
The nightmares are getting worse!
God, HELP me! HELP them!
Am I doing something wrong?
I don’t have any idea what to do!
I am SO done!
It’s 1 am.
My 10-year old shouts “MOMMY!” at the top of his lungs.
His jammy bottoms are soaked.
He’s wet the bed again.
God, HELP me! HELP them!
I’ve already called the doctor five times.
Nothing is working!
I am SO done!
It’s 1 am.
I haven’t heard from my new driver’s license holder since 7 pm.
Her curfew is 11 pm. She knows better than this!
Is she hurt? Is she drunk? Is she alive?
God, HELP me! HELP them!
I never knew this mom gig would be SO hard!
Will I ever get sleep? Will I ever stop worrying?
I am SO done!
It’s 1 am.
My cell phone vibrates on the nightstand. I ignore it.
It’s vibrates again and again. I finally pick it up. Hello?
The campus security guard is on the other end. My daughter was found passed out on the sidewalk, having had WAY too much to drink.
God, HELP me! HELP them!
This is un(freaking)believable! She will be the death of me!
What in the world am I supposed to do now?
I am SO done!
It’s 1 am.
My eyes refuse to close in sleep.
My son has been furloughed from his job.
This pandemic is wrecking everything. He was doing so well and now this!!!
God, HELP me! HELP them!
What is going to happen?
Even if he gets his sales back, will any business have the money to buy advertising? UGH!
I am SO done!
It’s 1 am.
I lay awake on my bed.
I can’t believe the text I got from my son this afternoon.
I burst into tears as I read it, gratitude bubbling up and leaking out!
GOD, you’ve HELPED me! You’ve HELPED them!
It keeps happening! Every single time!
You love him even more than I do! You are our great and only HOPE!
I am SO UNDONE!
Baby showers. Hospital rooms. 24-hour deliveries. No sleep. Leaky nursing bra. Baby giggles. Blurry mind. Toothless smiles. Crawling under the crib in the middle of the night for the pacifier. Yellow poop up the back.
I can’t believe this is my life.
Tantrums in grocery stores. Toddler tunes enough to drive a normal person crazy. First full sentences. Bonked heads. Refusals to nap. Go Dog Go. Happy bubble baths. Weird obsessions. Endless hugs.
I can’t believe this is my life.
Play dates. Obnoxious Nick Jr. Skinned knees. Brown play-dough. Playgrounds. Accidents in pants. Too many doctor visits. Smooshy kisses (right on the lips)! Melt-downs. “Parent’s, please stay with your child” birthday parties.
I can’t believe this is my life.
Homework. The car. The car. The car. Class parties. Sidelines and fields. Strange sounds coming from musical instruments. Mom school projects. Fibs. Surprise “I love you” notes. Whining. Lost jackets, mittens, and hats.
I can’t believe this is my life.
Cliques. Hormones. School performance pressure. Spontaneous hugs. Rolling eyes. Good talks in the car, facing forward. Did I say hormones? Budding independence. Dinners on the run. Concerts. Teams. Plays. Try-outs. Rejections. First paid gigs.
I can’t believe this is my life.
First kisses (and second and third). Team dinners. Slammed doors. Missed curfews. Drivers’ licenses. YIKES. Long unprompted talks. Proms. Less and less control. Senior nights. Heartbreaks. Texts not returned for what seems like hours and hours and hours. Real Christmas presents. Car accidents. College apps. Caps flying in the air.
I can’t believe this is my life.
Dorm shopping. Saying goodbye. Endless mom tears. Weeks between texts. WORRY. Weird campus visits. Saying hello. Curfews??? No. Home-cooked food. Yes. Summer job??? Possibly. Up till all weird hours. Yes. Dirty dishes. Yes. Family. Saying goodbye again. Less mom tears. More mom relief. REPEAT for four years.
I can’t believe this is my life.
First jobs. W2s. Uhauls. “Adulting.” Used car lots. Uhauls. Sincere and heart-felt “thank you moms.” Heated conversations about world events. Tearful hugs goodbye. Zoom family game nights. Did I mention Uhauls? Mother’s Day flowers from afar. Wedding planning. Real friendship. Grandpuppies. Precious and fleeting moments “ALL TOGETHER.” Yup. Uhauls.
I can’t believe this is my life.
Baby showers. Hospital rooms. 24-hour deliveries. Baby giggles. Toothless smiles. After-bath smells. Snuggles and kisses. Toddler tantrums. Excitement over Mommy’s old Fisher Price school bus. Go Dog Go. Sad “see you soons.” Facetime laughter. “I love you the most, Mema.” Happiest hugs hello.
YUP. I can’t believe this is my life.
BUT I COULDN’T BE MORE GRATEFUL THAT IT IS.
AND THERE IS STILL MORE TO COME.
An older mom, whose kids were the age of mine now, shared a GOLDEN NUGGET with me when my second son was starting middle school. It changed the course of my parenting and is something I have had to put in practice, albeit not-so-perfectly, especially now as my kids are mostly grown.
(The content below is based on real-life experiences. The stories may have been altered slightly and names have been removed to protect the innocent.)
LOVE WHAT THEY LOVE.
LOVE WHO THEY LOVE.
END OF STORY.
I’ve shared this nugget with my kids over and over and over and made this promise to them on countless occasions. I asked my son tonight what he thinks about it as we were having a pretty-heated discussion about my parenting (flaws and all). “Mom,” he said, “I feel like I never have to pretend, hide or worry about being someone that I’m not. I have permission to be exactly who I am. I know you love me no matter what.”
My heart skipped a beat as a tear trickled down my cheek. Yes, my child, I want you to be exactly who God made you to be and I will love what you love, and I promise, whether it’s easy or hard, to love whoever you love. I want to give you the gift that God has given to me. END OF STORY.
“Observe how Christ loved us. His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn’t love in order to get something from us but to give everything of Himself to us. Love like that.” (Ephesians 5:2)
Dear Brand-Spanking-New Mama,
Today has changed your life forever. You will never be the same. Your beautiful baby girl has been born.
Feelings have bubbled to the surface that you didn’t even know existed, the very first being
LOVE unimaginable, unexplainable.
But I can promise you that won’t be the only one. You’ll be pummeled by ALL. THE. FEELINGS. every day for the rest of your life.
FEAR that your house will catch on fire or that no one will invite your new 5th grader to sit with them on the bus.
LONELINESS in the middle of a room full of other moms or in the middle of a sleepless night.
CONFUSION about how to feed your baby the right food or feed yourself the best information.
JOY over the first wobbly steps taken across the family room or the last confident steps taken across the graduation stage.
ANGER at the unfair teacher, your sassy toddler, her phone, your out-of-control self, the mean girl at lunch, every form of consuming media, the unhelpful doctor, on and on and on.
GUILT about not being enough or being too much.
SADNESS when the bus pulls away with your kindergartener or when your teen pushes you away, leaving you a heap on his bedroom floor.
THANKFUL for the smile laced across your middle-schooler’s face at the Holiday Chorus concert or the smile on your bride-daughter’s face as she dances with her groom.
28 years later, you will be in the middle of a three-way kiss between your baby and her baby, and that very first feeling,
LOVE, unimaginable, unexplainable,
will swallow up all the others, multiplying itself once again, which you never thought possible.
From my heart to yours,
Filled-to-the-brim-with-love, Old Mama
Dear Kids,
Remember our fridge? Not what was on the inside (as yummy as that was), but what was on the outside. I loved displaying all your works of art, your photos, a good grade, all the things you were proud of. It was like our own little shrine to your awesomeness.
When we took things down, you would have a little freak out. Sometimes, I would sneak things into recycling or the garbage when you weren’t looking. Yes, I was THAT mom.
Other things stayed up there for a super long time just because it made both our hearts do a little dance when we passed by. You felt important and loved and knew how proud I was of you.
You know what? I’m a little sentimental and gushy because we aren’t putting things on fridges anymore. But I don’t need that dang fridge to tell you I am proud of what you accomplish, the things you create AND especially the person you are. That hasn’t changed and it never will. That little shrine moved from the big fridge door to the inside of my heart (no garbage or recycling needed)!
You know what else? Which just blows my mind!?!? God’s “fridge” is even bigger than mine. He loves you (AND ME) more than I ever can or will. You (AND ME) infinitely matter to Him. You (AND ME) are intensely valuable to Him. He is extremely proud of all the hard work you (AND I) have done and more importantly, the person that you (AND I) are. He’s filled with joy over you (AND ME).
If God had a refrigerator, your picture would be on it.
If He had a wallet, your photo would be in it.
He sends you flowers every spring and a sunrise every morning.
He can live anywhere in the universe and He chose your heart.
Face it. He’s crazy about you.
(Max Lucado)
Soak these words in! Let them settle deep down inside, where you can reach for them over and over any moment you need them! You are SO loved!
From my heart to yours,
Mom
P.S. You out there reading this…guess what???…all this applies to YOU too! I hope it puts a skip in your step for your day!!
*Picture from iVillage*
Sweet Mama,
When you took your child home for the first time, I bet you felt like I did: nervous, excited, already exhausted, wondering if you would be all the things that were expected of you and that you hoped for.
It didn’t matter whether your child was chosen by you through adoption or born out of your body. Whether you went home with your first born as a single mom or with your sixth child as a married, older mom, this was a big undertaking, one filled with anticipation and trepidation (and maybe a little freak out).
This whole mom thing has been “quite the ride,” filled with quarrels and hugs, tears and laughter, heartache and hope. It feels a bit like you have been in some kind of battle together, sometimes fighting against each other (I know that all too well), but really fighting FOR something bigger than either of you: your child’s heart.
When he has bummer days, you fight FOR him not to become bitter. When she in on top of her game, you fight FOR her to become grateful. It’s an every-day kind of fighting and it doesn’t matter if your child is 2 or 52. P.S. You’re doing great!!!
I’ve got some BIG NEWS: You are NOT the only one fighting FOR your child, even in those moments that tell you the opposite. You are not in this battle alone, even for a minute.
God goes in front of your child, swatting down all the “spiderwebs” and low-hanging tree branches.
God hangs in the trenches with your child, especially for all the minutes that you are not able to be there.
God brings up the rear too, so that your child feels all kinds of safe inside.
God fights fiercely FOR his or her heart. YUP He does!! And He never stops!!
Believing this is one of the only things that holds this fraidy cat mama heart together many days.
Now I’ve even got some BIGGER NEWS: In the midst of the mayhem, God hasn’t forgotten about you. He also battles FOR your beautiful, precious, mama heart, your confused, grateful, anxious, sad, hopeful, kind, trusting, vulnerable heart.
He doesn’t just want your child to thrive. He wants the same FOR you.
He doesn’t just want your child to be free, He wants the same FOR you.
He doesn’t just want your child’s life to be full, He wants the same FOR you.
You are His beloved child after all.
I pray that today, your mama’s heart will both calm and bask in this truth and at the same time, be excited for all the victory that’s ahead on this crazy, never-ending motherhood adventure.
From my heart to yours.
“Like what I like.”
“Think how I think.”
“Do what I do (and how I do it).”
“Be who I am.”
For years, this was my life’s mantra.
Husband. Kids. Friends. Coworkers. Strangers.
“Make decisions quickly.”
“Enjoy watching football.”
“Be an extrovert.”
“Believe every doctrine I espouse about God.”
On and on the list went, my goal to transform everyone into the spitting image of myself. It wasn’t ill-intentioned, but it was just plain old yuck (for lack of a better word).
I was missing out on the beauty of diversity and the celebration of our mutual differentness.
What a gift when the “scales” fell off my eyes and I could see the truth of this crucial life lesson: these people are NOT me NOR should they be.
WHAT A GIFT of the OTHER!!
It’s where life can be truly enjoyed in all its fullness.
It’s where love’s root can dig deep and blossom into a bouquet of grace.
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It means discovering the life-giving rhythms of silence and solitude from my introvert husband. (This Esthergizer Bunny needs these desperately.)
It means processing math lessons with my teacher daughter, along with unearthing the compassion she has for the struggling student, allowing for my own heart to come alive in ways I would never have known on my own.
It means hearing stories about the latest sales strategies from my second-born and possibly implementing them into my own little life’s goals of writing.
It means asking (and then actually listening to the response) about the latest headphones on the market from my tech-savvy recent college graduate. (The current sound system in our family room is to die for.)
It means getting a late-night text from my California-dreaming daughter about how her dreams are coming true, which means mine are too.
It means allowing each of my friends to be perfectly themselves, right where they are, without an agenda in my back pocket. They bring gifts every single time I am with them, gifts I would never receive if they were just like me.
It means leaning in and learning from all of you beautiful souls who are so incredibly different from me. I thank God for YOU!
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“Like what YOU like.
“Think how YOU think.”
“Do what YOU do (and how YOU do it).”
“Be who YOU are.”
I will be much richer and fuller and happier because of YOU.