Happiness?

I made some choices today that resulted in many tears and great unhappiness. 

As I reflected midday at the causes of the tears, I thought tonight's post was going to be about instincts.  About how I failed to follow my maternal instincts and thus to prevent tears where they could have been avoided.

As I thought more, I decided the post needed to be about insecurities.  About my inclination to compare my sons to the other children at church, to wonder what I am doing wrong that they still suffer such distress when left in the nursery.  To think that I am failing because I am unable to keep them quietly entertained during church.

But I'm coming at this from another angle.  Tonight it's about happiness.

Let me back up a week and remember a conversation I had with a dear family friend.  She brought gifts for the boys, and they both latched onto a certain scooter toy that was given to one of them; it resulted in a great deal of fighting and unhappiness.  She was upset that she had not given them the same items and so prevented this unhappiness.  I stood by my position that it is good for them to learn to share and that they do not need to have two of each toy.  I told her, "My first priority is not their happiness." 

I needed to remind myself of that today.  

Scene one: the church nursery.  Titus is upset that I am leaving.  There are loving and capable care-takers, and one in particular who has connected well with Titus in the past.  He tells me, "Go, we've got this."  I leave Titus crying.  I have a nagging suspicion that this is an unhappiness from which he will not be easily distracted.  However, I choose to place a priority on hearing the word of God applied to my life.  True to my suspicions, I learn later that Titus did cry for a very long time and much worse than I had anticipated.  I feel heartbroken.  He is calm when I pick him up, but looks worn, as we all feel after a long, hard cry.  I worry that my selfishness sacrificed his happiness.

Scene two: the car.  I offer to take a friend home after church, and also offer to make a quick stop she needs before heading home.  I realize that the delay of this stop combined with the length of time it takes to get to her home and back will inevitably result in the boys falling asleep in the car.  This means they won't nap at home later, which will leave them more worn and me without an afternoon respite.  I choose to do it anyway.  They do, in fact, sleep in the car, and are crying and screaming as I attempt to stumble-walk them from the car to the house.  They flop onto the floor but are too hungry to be eased back into napping.  Much crying occurs over the dinner table.  This is unhappiness that I could have prevented. 

Their happiness is important to me.  But it is not the most important goal.  Sometimes their character development takes priority (as in the case of learning to share the toy).  Sometimes my own spiritual needs take priority (as in the case of leaving Titus in the nursery).  Sometimes a valued relationship takes priority (in the case of giving a friend a ride). 

Will there be tears?  Yes. 
Will I wonder if I am making the right choice?  Yes. 
Will my boys learn that their happiness is not the only thing that matters?  Maybe, someday.

I need to remember this for myself, as well: my happiness is not the most important goal either.  

"Therefore, we do not lose heart.  Thought outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."  2 Cor 4:16-18

Lost in the cloud of mother-love?

Maternal instincts always put our children first, right?  Which means moms never struggle with selfishness, right?  Our children always get priority... we never think of our own needs... we never try to get our own way now that we're parents?  Selfishness is lost in the great cloud of mother-love, right? 

Yes, mothering does bring out much grace and love in me.  But is also brings my inherent selfishness into the bright light of minute-by-minute choices that I make in the daily routine of life.  It reveals my narcissism, my attention to my own "needs," wants, and priorities. 

Today I felt bad.  Just tired, sluggish, off.  I felt like my third child had taken up residence in my rib cage, not allowing my lungs to get a breath-full.  Not being able to breathe is somewhat distracting.  Silly, right? 

So I found a peaceful moment as the boys were playing to actually go horizontal on the couch.  And here comes my son: he sees the perfect opportunity for snuggling.  Now snuggling does not mean finding a cozy spot to curl up; it means wiggling and touching and caressing my belly and sitting on top of me and showing me a succession of animals and putting his face next to mine and touching some more and talking to me and bringing me books and ....  This is all unbearably sweet.

And I don't want to be touched. 

Ouch.  My reaction when I don't feel well is to retreat.  Don't touch me, don't talk to me, let me be.  My son's reaction to pain is to comfort.  His response to me lying on the couch is to join me. 

Reading I Spy books at the end of the day always tests my touch limits.  I'm tired and my nerves feel raw.  Something about I Spy books brings out the pointy-ness of elbows as they lean in to look.  It forces me to go at their pace rather than reading through the story and turning the page when I'm ready.   

I find myself with a choice to make.  The mother-love cloud isn't always working for me in these moments.  I need to chose to put them first, to remember how much I love them and how amazing it is to snuggle with them and to press in tight to read the book together and to put my arm around them tighter and hold a hand and tell them "I love you so much."  I need to stop thinking, "I can't breathe" and think "Look at what I get to breathe in... beautiful beloved boys." 

A Sabbath rest for mamas

My day starts with an alarm clock ringing.  Gotta get that shower before the little people wake up or I'll be behind the curve all day.  Then mix up the pancakes and hurry to their room to change diapers, give morning hugs and kisses, and bring them downstairs to start the day.  Yes, this is my Sabbath rest.  Bathtime can get interesting, and the floor will inevitably need to be swept after the breakfast crumbs settle.  Today we are expecting friends for lunch (yay!), which means a little kitchen prep work while I wash the dishes.  And so on and so forth.

Is this Sabbath rest?  I've tried to practice Sabbath as a rest from the work of the week.  As a student, from studying and reading.  As an employee and wife, from work, cleaning, and grocery shopping.  But as a mama?  Do I take a break from changing diapers, washing sticky hands, reading books?

Clearly the answer is No!

So, where is my rest?

I've had Sundays when I struggled to wash and dress two small ones, braved the cold as I pushed the stroller to church, and hauled car seats up the steps, only to sit in the nursery and do what I would've done at home ... I wondered, isn't Sunday supposed to be restful?

I've had Sundays when I've felt resentful of my children's demands, believing that this was my time to be doing something "spiritual" and self-enriching, and that they were preventing me from knowing this kind of Sabbath rest.

I've had Sundays when I've thought - forget trying - and threw in an unnecessary load of laundry and started dinner for Monday... because what is the point anyway of pretending that Sunday is any different for a mother?

I've had Sundays when my burdens have been surprisingly and undeservedly lifted by a caring husband, by a surprisingly long nap, but a mental shift that can only be credited to the work of the Spirit.  I've had Sundays when I've treasured the long hours to spend with my children without the nagging obligation that I should be finishing (or starting) a chore.  I've had Sundays when friends sitting and talking and playing with my children has brought lightness to my spirit that I would have missed without the privilege of taking a Sabbath rest. 

People, I don't have the answers.  Every Sunday I wonder and I try to work it out.  But if I have learned one thing, it is that our Sabbath rest is not to be a spiritual cover-up for selfishness.  And I need to fight that selfishness every day, Sunday included.

May you experience rest and joy in our Savior on your Sabbath this week.