Serenity Lives Here
Motherhood is the ultimate roller coaster. There is no ride in existence that can match the emotional ups and downs, twists and turns, or the overall thrill and excitement. I never had to wait in line for the ride. I just decided one day that I wanted to take a turn.
My journey, although short, has been a tumultuous one, and in that, I have managed to find peace in motherhood. To some, on the outside looking in, being a mother is either hard and ugly or beautifully simple. I am an eternal optimist as a mother. An eternal optimist that always fears the worse and is overwhelmed with anxiety. My life is run on schedules and routines. Our lives run like a fine oiled machine. Day in and day out we move like robots, but our souls sing of love. In the disarray of schedule keeping, and work meetings, and preschool parties, life sometimes seems like a dance we do with time. I find myself longing for the greener grass, on someone else’s side.
In a world plagued with mommy wars, mom shaming, and mom guilt, how are we supposed to find serenity in our own journeys through motherhood?
Sometimes it’s hard to find, but it’s always there.
Every day is equal parts happy and sad. Every day is equally chaos and calm. When the world seems like it’s moving faster than we can keep up, the kids are screaming, and dinner is burning, you will reach down to pick up your baby, and he will grab your face and lay one of those sloppy, wet, open mouth kisses directly on your lips. There, you will find it. The blissful moments in motherhood that make your heart melt into a puddle on the floor.
These are the moments, for which I live.
Every morning, we wake up at the same time, always before the sun. Our routine is like a dance through the minutes, swaying, and passing bags, hairbrushes, and the occasional child between us. Sometimes, more often than not, there are tears and sometimes unhappy words. Sometimes raised voices echo through the rushed juggling of diapers and tiny socks. But every morning when I pull out of the garage, my oldest shouts at me from the back of his daddy’s truck, “Have a good day, Mommy, I love you so much!“ And there, just like that, the rush begins to steady, and that tiny ray of comfort peeks in.
I am tired, more often than not. Some days, the fatigue can get the best of me. My patience can be thin. It seems that almost every time we have these nights, both boys need me at the same time, every time. One needs comfort, the other attention. No one is ever willing to compromise. I feel like my head will explode. I turn on the radio and scoop both babies into my arms. I dance and sing at the top of my lungs. The most joyous sound begins to fill the house, and we are happy, the four of us together. And there, at the end of my rope, I find euphoria.
Every night before we go to sleep, my boys climb into my bed. While the youngest nurses to sleep, my oldest rests his head on my stomach. The soft outer shell of what was once each of their home. I listen to them breathe. It is calm. It is quiet. It is always the exact opposite of majority of our days. Slow and steady, rather than fast and quick. I watch their chests as they rise and then fall. I inhale their scent, and it is intoxicating. The sounds of their cries have faded, but the echo of their laughter still lingers in the distance. In this moment, the good always outweighs the bad. The worries of the day, the problems, and the fear subside in this moment. We are together here, and we are content.
I believe there is such a thing as perfection. You just have to be willing to get through all of the imperfect things to find it. Motherhood is the perfect storm. No matter how terrible the day has gone, even if there have been too many tantrums and melt downs to count, and even if you lose yourself in a fit just trying to survive until bed time, in the end, there is always a tiny glimpse of tranquility that shines through. You just have to be willing to look for it. Just like the calm in every storm, there is a calm among the chaos. Being a mother is all that I live for, and even in the mayhem, I find serenity here.
JOURNALIST: Kayleigh Elliott