The Weight of Mom Life

There is nothing else I can change. I have changed so much already. No grocery shopping alone during the day, no more bi-weekly manicures, no more easily completed jobs. Now, every adult activity takes extra planning and lots of strategy to accomplish it with peace.

I am all about peace. I always have been. You might think that sounds lovely. It’s actually not. It is so stinking hard. How many times in your day with multiple kids, work, and a household is there peace?! Not very much, right?

I discovered I am an Enneagram 9, The Peacemaker. After studying it, I accepted my weakness: I respond to chaos and intensity with great anxiety. Hmm, so I do struggle with anxiety. Yep, Sissy Goff’s book “Raising Worry Free Girls” was right about parents passing anxiety down.

It does makes sense. No peace = anxiety.

This anxiety reared its ugly head the other day and took us by surprise. We had recently moved into a new house, changed the location we do school work, then changed it again because the heater broke in our “school building”. These changes resulted in the kids wanting to play in their new yard all day long and never open a school book again.

Yes, I enjoy my children playing in the yard. I love it. I love the adventure and the laughter. But, when it is noon and we have to leave the house for sports practice at 4, I begin to fret that nothing has been done today.

I call the kids inside; they are dirty, hungry, and mad that they have to stop playing. I announce we will begin school work.

Of course, their response is to argue, whine, complain, and roll on the floor. So, I begin working with one child hoping the others will do some work alone (but no, they end up playing dress-up.) It was a never-ending cycle of whining, me forcing them to focus, and a whole lot of disorder and negativity. Our days were running far away from peace.

One day, my child refused to read the introduction to his math lesson, claiming he had read it. As he began working on the problems, he asked me every question under the sun. I reiterated the importance of reading the introduction like I said an hour ago. He argued (again) and I snapped. Literally, I threw his text book across the room.

My body and my emotions had had enough. I had been holding the intensity of conflict inside, keeping it buried because I am desperate for peace. It was too much of a burden to carry and my body let me know it.

I experienced a full panic attack. My heart raced, I was dizzy, I had shortness of breath, I was nauseous, and then I sat in a ball and sobbed.

It was miserable and I wasn’t sure if I would ever calm down and catch my breath again.

Thankfully, my body did calm down after 45 minutes of rhythm breathing while lying in bed. But I was worn out and exhausted the rest of the day.

I am amazed by the reality that our body is connected to our innermost being. We often think it’s just a shell around us, but no, we are one. Our body is for us, to help us, and to guide us into good decisions. Listen to your body, listen to the Holy Spirit inside of it. It can be a powerful experience.

The overarching lesson I took away from the panic attack was that, “I cannot change anymore. It’s your turn.” My child and I discussed this and he solemnly agreed with me. Poor guy, he ended up writing me a note begging me not to put him up for adoption. Praise God for giving this son of mine wisdom to know he was wrong and conviction to do better!

I am also determined to do better.

Responsibility can wrap its heavy cords around us, holding us down and keeping up from looking up.

Do you know Who embraced the weight of responsibility? That's right. Jesus. But, how does a mere human being tangibly do the same as the Prince of Peace?

By trusting that God, our God, Yahweh, Jehovah-Jireh, I AM, is holding it together.

“I lift my eyes to the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth.” Psalm 121.

He is the maker of my children. He created their personalities, their minds, their energy levels. Ultimately, it is God who has control over what and when my children learn.

My challenge to you, fellow Momma: put down the laundry basket and go play a quick game of tag in the yard. It’s been way too long.