It’s 5 am. As I stand at the counter running my hands through the jar of coffee beans like a toddler playing with sensory bin, smelling the aroma of coffee freshly brewing, I find myself waiting. Waiting for the first drop of my drink of life to wake up my senses. Waiting to wrap my hands around that hot mug, to carry it into the other room before I start my day, hours before the rest of the house stirs. Waiting for the sun to rise and tell my body it’s ok to feel awake again.
As I sit in the darkness of another morning I am confronted by my own biggest struggle in motherhood. It feels trivial to even type it out, and it doesn’t carry nearly the same weight of baggage as other moms I know. But waiting comes with its own baggage. Anxiety. Frustration. Fear.
Waiting is exhausting. And motherhood is already exhausting enough.
On a typical day I think I spend at least a couple of hours waiting. For my 9 month old to eat as he tries to shove as much food in his mouth as possible. For my 3 year old to put her shoes on while I stand bundled up in my coat with an overtired baby strapped to me ready to fall asleep for a nap on our morning walk. For that same preschooler to just wash her hands already after going to the potty, and then to eat the supper she no longer wants – the same supper she requested only a half hour ago, I might add. For the tantrums to pass, the crying to stop, the teeth to come in, the poop to finally make it into the potty.
As mothers we often forget to show ourself grace for making it through those mundane days. Our waiting translates to our children learning, growing, and developing and we don’t give ourselves nearly enough credit for the impact we have on our tiny humans. We are told to enjoy this season of life because it will be over before we know it, but the truth is sometimes waiting is hard. Accepting our struggles openly and honestly in whatever form they come in is the first step to enjoying motherhood to its fullest. Even the rainbow doesn’t show up until after the storm. Sometimes motherhood can simply be about waiting the storm out. Other days the waiting is so worth it.
shared by guest author Tiffany Carther-Krone