I get it. It seems there are a million-and-one things screaming for our attention every day.
We get tired. We’re overwhelmed, and we’re stressed-out.
When we’ve reached the end of our unraveling rope, (and even then, I believe God works in our weaknesses) it’s encouraging to hear stories – especially funny ones – about other mom’s who get it, too. Without these accounts, we tend to feel like we’re the only ones who have bad days, and that’s just so untrue that it’s… well, laughable.
So, to cheer you up, I’ll share a humorous memory from years ago about a day when I was desperate for rest, then surprised by the divine intervention sent my way…
Desperate for Rest
“Hey, boys are up. I’m off to work,” my husband said, kissing me on the cheek. “We barbequing tonight?”
I rolled over in bed with a groan.
“Okay, then.” He gave my shoulder a good-natured squeeze. “See you later, babe,” he said, leaving the room.
I opened one eye to peek at the clock. It was 6:55 a.m. I wanted to cry.
All night, anxiety-induced heart palpitations had plagued my sleep: I was stressed to the max. Why? Our family had recently moved to a new town; I was two months pregnant and suffering morning sickness; my boys, ages two and four, had more energy than I could handle; and we had just returned from a hot, tiring camping trip the day before.
My body and soul screamed for rest.
Even so, I knew I couldn’t stay in bed forever. From my second-story bedroom, I could faintly hear the boys playing in the toy room below. Soon, they would be begging me for breakfast. I sat up, slowly.
“Today,” I declared aloud to myself, “is going to be a rest day. No errands. No visiting. No cleaning. No unpacking. Just… rest.”
Braving the Woken World
Not bothering to change out of pyjamas, I plodded down the stairs – a walking mom-bie – and shuffled into the kitchen. I was relieved to see that my kind husband had left some coffee in the pot for me. After pouring myself a mug, I turned on the stovetop element and whipped raw eggs in a bowl. I took a sip of coffee, then poured the egg mixture into a pan.
Only then did I realize something rare and wonderful had happened: my little boys hadn’t noticed me come down from my room. I knew, because they hadn’t run up to me with a million questions, nor were they crawling between my legs. Instead, they were still in the next room – giggling and entertaining themselves and NOT fighting.
I smiled, thankful for the divine intervention that must have been responsible for such a lovely morning oasis.
The Oasis is a Mirage
Just a few minutes later, something in the air shifted: the innocent, happy sounds I had been hearing from the next room suddenly escalated to a freakish level of glee – glee, as I’d never heard glee before. My mommy-senses kicked in.
“What are you doing in there?” I yelled.
Tyson, my four-year-old, hollered, “Nothing!”
I frowned. “Would it make Mommy upset?”
There was no answer, but I heard a pitter-patter of feet coming up the hall and into the kitchen.
“It’s just that,” Tyson said once he reached my side, “my water cup just dumped all over the toy room and all over our pillows and everywhere!”
My eyes bulged. “How did that happen?”
“Well… me and Thales were just trying the clean up the –” he stopped. Then, smirking, “pee mess.”
“The what?” I moved the pan of cooked eggs to the side of the stove, turned off the element, and turned to my son. Tyson’s eyes were bright with mischief.
“Yeah! When I was using the potty, somehow, the pee just shot out the door and across the hall and into the toy room!”
I closed my eyes and sighed, Lord, please help me.
Dragging myself down the hall to investigate, I found Thales, my two-year-old son, surfing puddles with his bare feet, then crashing into piles of mega blocks at the end of the toy room. His face was plastered with joy.
I burst out laughing, which prompted Tyson to excitedly fill me in on the rest of the story:
After the fountain of urine had sprayed all over the toy room, Thales had slipped and fallen in one of the puddles. He hadn’t been hurt, though; rather, he was thrilled to play in his very own indoor water park, happily hopping in and out of the shallow wading pool.
Seeing that Thales was tracking yellow footprints all over the floor, Tyson had come up with a cleaning plan – he poured his water cup out onto the laminate flooring. Then, the two brothers had slip-slopped through the room to wash the pee.
Needless to say, it took me a while to corral my little surfer, then bathe the boys and wash the floors; but, eventually, the three of us sat down around the dining table to eat our now-cold breakfast.
Although it had not been the restful morning I had been hoping for, I knew I was still the recipient of divine intervention: I had enjoyed the freedom to laugh at life instead of cry.
“It’s a Beautiful Life”
Well, there you have it. I hope you enjoyed this peek inside my beautiful but not-so-perfect life.
I know you have some funny stories, too, and I’d love to hear them. Feel free to share them in the comment section below!
Sara Jane Kehler