oh my word
real motherhood. real marriage. real life.
Why I Need a Griddle. Please.
Posted on May 8th, 2015

Here I am at my second post.  Good grief, how I have agonized and prayed over what my blog should be "about".  Like, I feel like I should have some kind of theme.  I don't want to just ramble about my daily life because I'm pretty sure my readers (all three of them) are terribly uninterested in things like the fact that my garbage disposal is leaky and that I need to replace approximately 13 light bulbs in this house.  Riveting. 

I have no theme.  So I settled for asking God just for a subject for my next post.  Just that.  And I have some stuff...some ideas...some chicken-scratch thoughts floating around.  All this to say, when I told you last week that I had no idea where God was taking this, I was looking straight into your eyes and telling you every bit of truth I knew.  I still don't know.  So, yay!  This week's topic may be less than cohesive, but I'm just going to write it and trust.  I'd apologize ahead of time if I knew all three of your were still reading at this point...

Mostly, I kept thinking this week about being a mom.  (And not just because it's Mothers' Day Week).  I really don't want this to be a cliche "mommy blog", but I'm not making any promises.  This week, it's about being a mom.  It's what I know, people. 

Earlier this week, I had a "mommy moment" in the kitchen with my six-year-old... 

Back-up...momma's out there know what's up.  There are Good Mommy Moments and Bad Mommy Moments.  I don't even have to explain this to The Mommas.  They know.  For all of those that don't know, I'll offer a brief-ish explanation.  We'll start with the bad news first, because that's what people do.  Bad Mommy Moments explode out of The Mommas without warning.  Whatever our child just said or did was THE LAST STRAW and we react.  It can get ugly.  Sometimes we yell, sometimes we cry, and sometimes we do a scary and confusing combination of both a yell and a cry.  A crell, if you will.  While we are crelling, we say and do crazy things like promise to donate all our kids' toys to poor little children who have no toys and who don't even have a word for "bored" or announcing that, from now on, squash is the official vegetable of the house and we will have ice cream never. again. ever. if the squash is not eaten.  The aftermath of the Bad Mommy Moments might include Mommy hiding in the bathroom, holding her breath when she hears footsteps near the door.  Or perhaps the eating of chocolate.  (I may or may not have eaten chocolate while hiding in the bathroom.  Don't judge.  You know you've done it too.)  Bad Mommy Moments usually occur while you are "cooking dinner" (which is code for cooking, plus checking homework, plus doing a load of laundry, plus answering a work email, plus signing permission slips, plus...plus...plus).  Bad Mommy Moments happen during what I call Crazy Hour at my house.  Everyone is tired and hungry and downloading their day.  It's a perfect storm, really.

Good Mommy Moments are the crowning glory of The Mommas.  The same crazy might still be happening with the kids.  Whatever your child just said or did was still THE LAST STRAW, but instead of exploding and crelling, the Holy Spirit rushes in and fills us with patience and kindness and all-the-nice-words.  We remember to breathe.  We smile.  Sometimes we even bend down to our child's level and our voices are soft and ... angelic really.  We glance up at our halos, wink at ourselves real quick as if to say, "You've got this.  Look at you!  You are practically dripping with the Fruit of the Spirit," and speak wisdom and teaching over our children like we are channeling the Proverbs 31 Woman.  Good Mommy Moments usually occur right after we've had our morning coffee, a quiet time with our bibles, or have had a weekend getaway or girls' night out.

So back to it...earlier this week, my mommy moment was Good.  I had just had a weekend getaway.  I was feeling rested, connected with God, reciting scripture in my head from the weekend...all the good stuff.  So when my six-year-old came into the kitchen complaining that she had to pick up toys that her one-year-old sister had gotten all over the living room, I smiled (of course), bent down (naturally!), and beautiful words about serving our family as Jesus serves us came out of my mouth.  My halo was in perfect position, glittering just right, catching the light off the microwave.  I was delivering a sermon that preached real good.  It was full of wisdom like, "God gave us one another to rub off all the selfish edges from our hearts," and how we should, "serve with a joyful heart, as if serving the Lord."  My voice was steady, calm.  Birds gathered on the back patio to listen and chirped sweetly in agreement, the squirrels dropped their pecans and scurried over, and a light breeze swayed the trees outside.  It was a gorgeous parenting moment.  After my girl skipped away to pick up the toys, I paused for a few moments before picking up the spatula to flip my quesadilla on the stove, marveling at the beauty of the Good Mommy Moment.  I knew my people were going to come in, pray over the food, eat this nice meal I'd prepared, discuss the day's events with a casual ease, giggle a little, and end by pitching in to clear the dinner mess while we shared life and just laughed and laughed.  They would then rise up and call me blessed and I'd kiss the tops of their heads and send them off for bath time.


I really don't know what happened.

I am not exactly sure the moment I snapped.

I can't tell you at what point my halo slipped down over my eyes.

It all happened so quickly.  So suddenly!

I was left, blinking and muttering, "Wait. What???"

All I know is that not ten minutes after the Blessed Mommy Moment, I YELLED, "EVERYONE JUST SIT DOWN AND EAT. YOUR. FOOD!"

The rest of the evening...well you can fill in the blanks.  It wasn't pretty.  And not one single person looked up at me and called me blessed.  Shocker.

So, here is what I've been reminded of this week.  I've even ranked them in order of importance, for your convenience.  You're welcome.

1) I need Jesus.  Every hour.  Every moment.  I need Jesus when my halo is on straight and when it slips down and hides my eyes.  The good moments are His, not mine.  I cannot take credit and wait for accolades, nor should I desire them.  The Holy Spirit is the one and only reason Good Mommy Moments exist.  The bad moments are reminders to call out to Him, "I need you, Jesus!" 

2) My children need Jesus.  Every hour.  Every moment.  They are little sinners.  I didn't even have to teach them how to sin.  I need to remember that they are vulnerable to attacks from the Enemy, just as I am (more so since they are not yet filled with the Holy Spirit).  I need to offer more grace.  I need to remember to teach them (show them) how to call on Jesus. 

3) My children are watching me.  I hate this one!  (Just letting my honest show.)  I was just talking to John last night about how I'm not one bit surprised that Carson is going through a "selfish phase" (she is, by the way...whole other blog post).  Hellooooooooo.  Am I doing what I need to be doing to set an example?!  I can talk and talk and talk all day long, but at the end of the day, my actions scream so loudly that no one can even hear what I'm saying.  Conviction.

And, finally...

4) I'm pretty sure the reason I exploded can be traced back to the fact that I have been flipping pancakes, quesadillas, eggs, and other-flippable-things IN A PAN for the almost-ten years I've been married.  IN A PAN, people!  It's like I'm a savage.  Flipping one quesadilla at a time.  I'm nearly POSITIVE that the Proverbs 31 Woman never ever yelled, "EVERYONE JUST SIT DOWN AND EAT. YOUR. FOOD!"  And you know why?  I bet she had a griddle.

And so, I'd like to formally and publicly announce that...

MOMMA NEEDS A GRIDDLE FOR MOTHERS' DAY.  I'm certain that all a momma needs is a whole lotta Jesus, equal parts coffee, prayer...

...and a griddle, for crelling out loud.

Posted in Everyday Life, Writing, Motherhood    Tagged with Motherhood, Real Life, Realville


Leave a Comment