Today is Monday. I want to write something profound and meaningful. But I can’t. I’m sorry. Tomorrow I’ll be accompanying my boys to our church’s camp. My first born baby is spending the night ALL WEEK. I am so pumped for him, but oh my heavens. This is shockingly surreal. First day of kindergarten surreal. I mean I knew this day was coming. I’ve been awaiting and dreading this day for, well, ever. I’m simultaneously celebrating and grieving.
He’s so ready, and he’s going to do great. I am just not sure my heart’s ready for not having him here at home with me for a week. We are a family of six. Five just doesn’t feel right anymore. I’ve been away from him before. But Mama’s don’t you know that when you are at home and it’s bedtime you want your babies at home in their beds. Amen?
And yet I can’t wait to help him get his bunk set up and his suitcase unpacked. It will be thrilling to hear his camp stories on Friday. I can imagine him singing his heart out to Jesus, running Keen-footed with all the boys, and playing awesome night games.
I’ve only been a Mom for seven years, but I am learning this is the hard tension of motherhood. It’s always there in some permutation. It’s the tension between guilt and satisfaction, being firm or being fun, being playful or being productive.
I want to throw a Pinterest birthday party, but I only have time to pull of Chuck. E. Cheese. A stranger in the grocery store comments on the good behavior of my boys. Only minutes later, I’m squeezing the cheeks of one of those “well behaved” boys, our noses only inches apart, in a fit of nearly lethal frustration because he was blatantly disrespectful.
I think for me that’s part of the extreme exhaustion of motherhood. I am constantly trying to keep my emotions in check, balancing what’s real, reasonable and right against what’s easy, emotional and exaggerated.
Now a good blog post written by a better Mom would have a practical suggestion on how to deal. I’m not that Mom, blogger or girl. I don’t know if on a good day I’d have the answer, but certainly not on the day I’m dropping off my seven-year-old at overnight camp. So help, sweet friends. Someone want to jump down this hole with me? You don’t even have to have the answer, just keep me company or distracted-for like a week.