My inner monologue circa 2012:
“I would never brag about going to Target by myself or complain about having kids in tow at the grocery store, because I know what it’s like to have an empty buggy.”
“I would never grumble about mountains of dishes or piles of laundry, because it would be a gift to have more mouths to feed and more bitsy bodies to clothe.”
“I would never speak harshly to a wounded orphan child.”
“I would never lose my patience with a child struggling to learn.”
“I would never let my children watch television or play computer games. No, we will read books. Chapter books, of course.”
“I would never leave a lunch box in the back seat long enough to ferment into something resembling apple cider vinegar”
“I would never forget to brush my kids’ teeth…for several days.”
“I would never…My children would never…”
All that and plenty more.
When it takes several years to grow your family, you have plenty of time to dog-ear ALL the parenting books, memorize ALL the Gospel-centered disciplinary measures and mistakenly convince yourself that because it required so much grief to become a mom, you will ALWAYS be THE most grateful baby wearing, organic food eating, imaginative playing, neat and tidy, free range parent.
I didn’t even realize all my judgmental thoughts until we got the kids and I found myself kicking the jogging stroller and complaining about the sleepless nights, exorbitant amount of extra housework and the fact that my backseat resembled the Golden Corral buffet.
In my 2 years of being a mom, I’ve done all of the above and have thought, “I JUDGE PEOPLE LIKE ME!!!!!!” on a daily basis.
Ends up, it was ME I was scared of all the while. I was scared that parenting would be annoying and uncomfortable. I was scared that it might reveal that I have the capacity to act in shameful ways. And oh LAWD, what if I forget to brush their teeth?!?
Motherhood has been the crucible by which my pride and perfectionism, deeply rooted in insecurity and shame, has begun to die a slow and painful death. And while I’m still learning to lean into the chaos with gratitude and hope, I am also asking God to change my inner mommalogue from judgement to acceptance, freedom and grace.
Acceptance of His power to do the hard and uncomfortable.
Freedom from comparison and the need to figure out what fruit or vegetable rotted resulting in pungent unidentifiable liquid pooled up under the car seat.
Grace to repent as needed and also to say, “Hey, can I sneak out for a few hours of quiet, maybe even grocery shop real quick by myself?”
What inner mommalogues or monologues do you wrestle with? How do you struggle with judgement?