“Mommy, will you play with me?”

“Can you please snuggle longer?”

“Momma, watch what I can do!”

So sweet and cute are these repeated requests from the little mouths of the ones I get to call mine (though to be honest, they are only on loan to me from God). So why do these words often feel painful, burdensome, and dare I say annoying? Even writing this I am baffled with how ridiculous it is that such tender, loved filled words would be anything but delightful to my ears.

I knew that when I chose to stay home and homeschool I wouldn’t have a 3 minute bathroom break uninterrupted for what seems like the next 100 years. I am constantly reading this, or listening to that in an attempt to be enough, to be everything these little ones need. I pour my heart and soul into trying to be the best momma I can be for them. I would jump in front of a moving train just to save one tangled up piece of hair from their precious heads. SO WHY…why does it often feel so life draining to hear them tugging for just a little more of me? IT ..DOES.. NOT… MAKE.. SENSE!!!

As I started writing this, I was really grappling with understanding.  How can it be that in one moment the adorable faces that I want to snuggle and kiss can in the same breath provoke a knee jerking “leave me alone” internal response? In all honesty, I had to take a few weeks to really reflect and pray about what was driving this embarrassing truth. Is it because I don’t want to snuggle? The answer is no. Is it because I don’t want to watch what they can do? Nope that isn’t truth, either. Is it because I don’t want to get on the ground and play a board game with them instead of washing the dishes? Again the answer is No! 

After a lot of prayer, reflection and time with Christ in adoration, God started to slowly whisper the hidden force that caused such honest, but broken responses to flare up within – FEAR. 

Now I think all of us mommas can appreciate that we don’t always want to, or cannot always comply with these simple requests made by our kiddos. 

No I can’t snuggle for ten more minutes when I already just spent ten with you AND each of your four siblings, and now I actually need to finish washing your clothes or you won’t have any undies to wear this week.

Maybe, I don’t want to spend twenty minutes reading one more Ninjago book because daddy and I are planning to watch a movie.  

Or maybe sometimes I simply want to cook in the kitchen, quietly by myself, while listening to a good podcast, without the distraction of a child tossing flour onto our already sticky floor. 

But this my friends is not where my brokenness lies. This is called needing to tend to our family’s needs. This is called wanting to and needing to spend time with my hubby. This is simply called desiring some quiet moments in my day. All of these are healthy and beautiful. 

Where the disorder and brokenness falls is the spiraling and restless response that builds up within my soul. It is in a deep hidden place that speaks into my fear. I fear their disappointment, I fear their little hearts being let down, I fear failing them, but most of all I fear that I WON’T BE ENOUGH. Somehow, my internal dialogue hears my mind’s healthy response of “No, I can’t right now” or “Sorry, momma needs a moment of quiet instead” and my fear of failing them bubbles up like an anxious time bomb loudly ticking away. 

I remember when this disorder exploded right in front of my first born’s eyes. I had just spent the evening taking her to gymnastics, followed by a walk downtown and special dinner date, just the two of us. As a mom of many littles, these moments are rare. I drove home patting myself on the back, so proud of the devoted time I gave this young lady, who owns a piece of my heart. I was delighted that we had some special time to just laugh and enjoy each other’s company, far away from the chores and the hustle and bustle of our busy and chaotic lives. We snuck in the house while all the others were already asleep. After snuggling for fifteen minutes and continuing our silly conversations, I decided it was late and time I tuck her in and say goodnight. As I was leaving, she pursed her lips into a pouty face and huffed a sigh of sadness. 

Whaaaaaaat!!???!! I could have simply said “I know it’s a bummer kiddo, but it’s time for bed, goodnight I love you.” Yet, instead, my mind spiraled with “How dare you act sad, how dare you make me feel like I disappointed you!” I couldn’t handle, that after all that quality time spent, she still could have any sentiment other than 100% fully satisfied. My eyebrows furrowed and my voice got stern with an angry “Knock it off, don’t act disappointed!!” What else I said, I don’t quite remember. All I know is I word-vomited my anger towards her. 

I’ve watched my husband dozens, or more likely hundreds, of times simply say “no” then tenderly kiss them goodnight, goodbye or tell them to go play outside. He doesn’t panic and freak out inside, followed by an explosion of “Why can’t you stop asking for more of me?”Unlike myself, he carries a grace allowing him to love, cherish, play with and adore these little ones while also being able to simply say “No, I can’t right now” without a fearful angst. 

Don’t get me wrong, though I say yes a ton, I FREQUENTLY say no to them because I have laundry to fold, a baby to put down or a cup of coffee I’ve reheated for the 119th time that I’d like to enjoy. Yet, it is often in these times that my body exudes a fiery smoke filled air that reveals that I’m annoyed with the request, no matter how much I try to smile through my gritty teeth. Even writing this I see how ironic it is!  It is this fragile mom heart that fears disappointing and failing them which causes me to boil up with a frustrated internal response ultimately leading to the very thing I feared – hurting them. 

Why can’t I simply say no when I need to, without subconsciously projecting a future of intense therapy and resentment years down the line? It is simple, their disappointment or feelings of let down MAKE ME UNCOMFORTABLE! Now, there is a beautiful component to this. We shouldn’t enjoy or feel good about our child’s pain or sadness. Sometimes this uncomfortableness is God’s way of keeping our hearts in check. However, when this discomfort is precipitous to an explosive, yet often secret internal spiral, then it is nothing but disordered.

I can easily and peacefully say “No, you can’t have more ice-cream” or “No, it’s time for school, not PLAY.” I can hang my hat on the old “It’s tough love kid” philosophy. I know they won’t like it, but I KNOW that these “No’s” are good for them. Yet, I’m uncomfortable and angst when my NO refers to “No you can’t have more of me right now.” 

I fear that they won’t know my unceasing love for them if I disappoint them in this way. 

I fear that all of my thousands of “yes’s” WON’T BE ENOUGH! 

I fear that I WILL NOT BE ENOUGH!

But as I prayed and reflected on this disordered, broken and panicky internal response which caused the ugly, internal tailspin, God revealed something so humbling, yet beautiful to my perfectionist heart. “Momma, you won’t be enough. But that’s okay, because I AM.” 

As Saint Teresa of Avila reminds us “Whoever has God lacks nothing: God alone is enough!” Now I don’t think this is a lazy woman’s excuse to throw my hands in the air and say “Ehhh well God says I can’t be perfect, and I can’t avoid disappointing them, so I’m off the hook!”

Instead it is a tender reminder from our good God that we ARE NOT PERFECT. We will disappoint them, and we will let them down. Many times that let down is just, unavoidable and simply ok, while other times it is the reflection of our weaknesses and shortcomings. Yet either way, we shouldn’t be ruled by the fear that we won’t be enough for them.  Because newsflash, NO ONE , and I mean NO ONE can be enough for anyone. Only our glorious God himself is enough.

But this is where the beauty lies. He knows we are not enough, yet we remain His beloved children and His love for the souls he placed in our care far surpasses the intense love we have for them. God desires to fill in the holes and bridge the gaps left by our human nature.  We can’t avoid leaving behind a trail of disappointment nor meet every pure desire they may have for just one more ounce of us. But lucky for us, the God of the universe is never too busy, never requires some quiet alone time and NEVER TIRES from being pulled at by these little hearts. 

So instead of fearing what we lack or what disappointment we will cause, we should take our eyes off ourselves and move our hearts and those of our children towards the Lord. St. Paul reminds us that through our weakness God’s power is made full. “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9. 

So today, I will give my kiddos a million “Yes’s”, and I will trust my good God to fill in and make new any holes left behind by my “No’s.”

~Suzanne Bilodeau