It’s not that hard. I only have two kids. Yes, they’re boys. Yes, they’re close in age. And yes, my husband’s job involves weird hours and long stretches away.

But there’s only two of them. And I don’t work a full-time job. I have no newborns and for pete’s sake – they’re in preschool twice a week.

How hard is it to keep the kids healthy and happy, keep the house clean and organized, keep the meals, budget, and household managed…and keep myself sane?

Because lately I’m not hitting the mark on that last one.

The screeching. The laundry. The bank account. The time-outs. The potty training, the carpet stains, the unmade bed, the yells of, “NO!”, the bathroom flooding, the numbers on the scale, the whining, the entire room turned into a fantastic mess in one fell swoop, the demanding, the questioning, and the expectations. 

It’s overwhelming me right now. Just when I stop sinking, when I can push my head above water and take a deep, life-giving breath…my head is pushed right back into the current. And I’m lost again, flailing to keep up, trying to tread, but inevitably searching frantically for something to hold onto. Something to pull me up, something to wrap my arms around, to rest my head against, to give my aching muscles a break.

When you’re drowning, the last thing you’re capable of doing is explaining why you’re drowning. It doesn’t make any sense, not even to me. Why is it so hard? Why am I so overwhelmed by things other Moms take in stride?

Part of my brains realizes that this chaos is a beautiful chaos, a wonderful mess. I know others have it harder, have it worse, do more, work more, are more.

But my heart still shatters when my son yells, “I DON’T love you!”

I know he’s four. I know he’s simply expressing his displeasure at having to sleep, but I sob. I sob in a way completely incongruent with the situation, like all the insecurities, the fears, the struggles, and the insufficiencies are right there for everyone to see. When I could once bury those fears with logic and scripture, I feel like they’re all being shouted at me.  And without me realizing it’s happening – in truth, it had been slowly happening – the darkness covers me.

And I’m drowning.


4 thoughts on “insufficient

  1. Hi Jenn, I’ve never commented before, but I’ve been following your blog for a while now, and I have ordered a few things from SerwaChic (love your bibs and nursing covers!) Anyway, I just want to reach out and say I feel your pain. I can identify with feeling completely overwhelmed at times, but it looks like you are doing a great job. Hang in there! I recently found this blog that has been so inspiring, maybe it could be helpful to you, too.
    Sending hugs and prayers your way!

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