Loving vs. Liking Motherhood

Wow.  Sometimes this motherhood thing is so hard.  Some days, like today, I wonder if I'm doing ANYTHING right because you sure wouldn't be able to tell by seeing my child.  The "Terrible Two's" began way earlier than I was prepared for and, sometimes, I look at my sweet, precious baby boy---and feel like I have no idea who this demanding little tyrant is standing before me.  Some days I put him to bed and just weep, exhausted and wondering how I will survive the toddler years.  I knew motherhood was going to be hard, but I didn't know it was going to be like this.

As you may have guessed, I'm having a bad day.  Like, a seriously bad day.  And, I'll be honest, I very rarely read the weekly MOPS emails sent out from the international organization.  But today, of all days, I decided to open it.  And I was moved to tears (not only was it a bad day, but also an emotional one, too) but this oh-so-pertinent message.

Loving versus Liking Motherhood

Robin Kramer, mom of three

It doesn’t matter how a child enters your family – whether he’s adopted or born into it, whether she’s a complete surprise or yearned for month after month with dare-I-even-hope?pregnancy tests. They’re yours, and you love them.

Without even saying it, you know that you’d die for them.

At some point, though, you’ll look at this child and be confronted with the unsettling realization that you don’t like them very much. At least, not at that particular moment. Not when they’re throwing a tantrum and kicking the air in angry protest. Not when they’re hitting a sibling, defying your instructions, refusing to eat dinner or rolling their eyes. During those moments, theemotions of love – so powerful and heartrending during infancy – wane.

Yet, it’s love that covers patches when there’s not much liking. During days when I find myself and the kids clunking around in a vaguely irritated state where nothing specifically is wrong but everything is off, that’s when I most need to love them. When they’re triggering fights and setting off land mines with volatile words and actions, that’s when they need my arms to wrap around them, buffering them until they can change their destructive course.

When tears, arguments, food, and toys merge into one unsightly and exhausting mess, it’s not unusual for me to pause, collect myself, and make a declaration: Girls, I love you.

At these moments, I rarely feel it. I’m speaking into the void, reminding myself as much as I’m reminding them of this truth. I love them. Whether I feel it or not, I love them.

We love our children enough that on many days we do die for them – unnoticed and miniscule deaths-to-self when we place their needs and interests before our own, when we hold our tongues, when we give them the last bite of the chocolate cake that we wanted to eat, when we drag our weary body out of our warm beds to comfort them when they’re frightened in the middle of the night.

Because this is what mothers do. We love our kids, even in our imperfection. Even in their imperfection. We always will.

Dear God, give me daily grace and strength to love my kids as You love them.

Robin Kramer is a mother of three, college instructor, and author of Then I Became a Mother, from which this post is excerpted with permission. She blogs regularly at Pink Dryer Lint to encourage moms to find humor and pleasure in the ordinary moments of motherhood and life.

Wow . . . did I need to hear this.  And I just wanted to share in case anyone reading this blog needed to hear it, too.  Chins up, Moms.  We can't do it alone, but we can do all things through Him who gives us strength.