So I get that question up top. Normally, I smile, and say, "I don't know how moms get their kids out the door on time for school." In other words, I deflect.
The truth is, I don't do it all. I don't even try to do it all. And quite honestly, I think it's time to stop
asking each other that question.
The implication is that, somehow, I am
SUPPOSED to do it all. But I'm not. I can't.
I am one woman with three children who are where I am all day, every
day. Most days, that's home. But they go with me to the store, the
library, even some doctor visits. To
have blood drawn, even (and recently).
The truth is, my house is most often a
mess. The "guest room" is
unrecognizable at the moment, mostly because it has become storage. My sewing room is a disaster, with boxes all
over the floor, and projects covering the table. I would give my left arm for someone to come
in once a week, or even once every-other-week to clean for me. I'm not a great housekeeper even when school
is on break.
I don't grow my own wheat, or my own
cattle. I am hopeless with plants. My oldest now has a greenhouse. I'm hoping as long as I stay clear, the
plants will have a chance to survive.
If I make my own bread, it is most
likely done, at least partially, in a bread machine. With store-bought, bleached flour.
Snacks are fruit. Whole. Not arranged into pretty faces, or skeletons
with cut up bell peppers. And no dipping
sauces, either.
My clothes, and those of my husband
and children, come from the store. (With
few exceptions. I ADORE sewing, just
don't have time for it.)
I also don't work outside the
home. Getting my children out the door
is a challenge, what with all the lost shoes and whatnot.
Lunch is usually one of two options --
peanut butter sandwiches or vegetable soup.
Occasionally there's nachos, but not often.
I do cook most evenings. But there's always Costco pizza and Taco Bell
on the Engineer's way home from work.
And I take advantage of that more often than I "should."
I don't lapbook (I know, you've just
revoked my homeschool mother card). I
don't scrapbook. The pictures are almost
exclusively on the computer still.
I do, however, have three children
with lively imaginations, who know how to talk to adults, how to be gentle with
smaller children, and how to approach an unfamiliar dog. The girls are inquisitive, boundlessly
curious about everything in their world.
They know themselves and their strengths. They are proud of their quirks, of who God
has created them to be.
I have a husband who is, without a
doubt, doing the job he was created for.
And he's good at it.
I know I am doing the right thing for
my family and myself. But I am not doing
it all. I can't. I won't even try. And I won't ask you "How do you do it
all?" Because chances are, you
aren't. You can't. And you should probably stop trying to.
Let's give each other some grace. Grace to not look exactly like one another,
grace to not be able to do it all. Grace
to not have it all together. Grace to
let our own personalities shine.
Please, let's stop asking, "How
do you do it all?" It just isn't
possible. And the collective guilt is
killing us.
