What I learned from being a working-full-time....stay-at-home...mom

Oh, motherhood. It was such a steep learning curve, first having a baby. What temperature is considered a fever? How do I cut paper-thin fingernails that are attached to a squirmy potato that shrieks? What is a pump falange, and do I seriously need to wash it every day? And I didn’t know about the acronyms; the sweet, beloved acronyms.

I joined a few Facebook groups when I was a new mom. It felt nice to be part of those communities, especially because parenthood was a stage of life I was so excited to finally be a part of, and I couldn’t wait to feel a part of something! But every woman’s post had all these cryptic letters bunched together that seemed to replace full sentences, and I just couldn’t keep up….SAHM, EBF, LO, DH, DD, DS….if you know what all of these mean, congratulations- I still had to Google a couple tonight!! But as I scanned those posts for practical tips and for a sense of community, I didn’t realize how much I was absorbing other humans’ views of this role God had called me to; I took on what these strangers believed about their roles as moms and shaped them into my view of my role, instead of going straight to The Source.

I have wrestled, celebrated, and grown a lot in my view of myself as a mom. Here are the main things I have come to learn:

1. My calling as a mom is going to be unlike anyone else’s, and how I live it out may change as the years go by.

2. The way I parent and carry myself as a mom is unique and special because God made me unique and special (and the same for you!).

3. Parenthood is hard, no matter what; there is no “perfect balance” or “perfect setup”...and that’s why we need Jesus.

So, let me take you on a journey to my first year in parenthood (which was literally just a couple years ago, so do not hold your breath for infinite wisdom here...I do not claim to be seasoned at all, folks!):

We found out we were having Emma six months into marriage. Just before we discovered this sweet news, JB and I had been talking about “all things family planning”: what the “ideal due date” was (like we can actually control that), what my maternity leave and teaching would look like, finances, nursery themes, and all the other fun things. Being the “sharer” I am (at least with talking...not as much with food. Sorry, JB!), I opened up to some friends and family about our exciting conversations. When I asked a few coworkers for their perspective on parenting while teaching, I was discouraged to hear about their difficult experiences with maternity leave and the baby/work balance.

I came home disappointed and after a long talk, JB and I decided to wait six more months before starting a family to try to line up my maternity leave with summer. Just a few weeks later, we found out we were pregnant! This is a crude paraphrase of Proverbs 16:9, but “Man plans, and God laughs [lovingly, I must add]”. 

All of a sudden, that six-week maternity leave hung over my head, and the idea of working up until the day I was induced seemed like the only thing I could do. I quickly realized as the final week before my induction date loomed that I needed a break before the big transition that was to come. So I took some of those beloved sick days and prepared for what was to come. A handful of very pregnant days later, and along came sweet Emma.

I was talking to a wonderful new friend today (shoutout to Lacee!), and I was reflecting with her that I tried to keep my head down and my emotions tucked away that first year of Emma’s life. The truth is, it was hard. It was SO hard to leave my baby after just six weeks and to go back to commuting 50 minutes each way and teaching full-time. Emma was in the hands of my beautiful, wonderful gift-of-a-mother-in-law (affectionately named “Gigi” by Emma), which gave me such peace and gratitude. But that was hard for me, too. I wrestled with not fully feeling like a mom, like I had passed my daughter off to someone else. I feared their bond would be stronger. I had just 2-3 hours with Emma at night, and it just didn’t feel like enough time to play with her, snuggle with her, and soak her up; it broke my heart.

But you know what’s crazy? I don’t think I shed more than a few tears that entire first year. And I don’t wear that like a badge of honor (and honestly, sometimes I can get prideful about that)...but the truth is, that goes to show how much I stuffed my emotions down. And a big reason I did that is because I felt like I had this amazing life- a great husband, a daughter, a job that I love; I had no reason to be upset. God had provided for me financially and relationally in every way, and I just told myself I didn’t need to dwell on those difficult things. Plus, it was scary to face strong feelings.

Besides, who likes hanging out with the mom who is constantly sulking over having a wonderful job AND family? 

I see now that it’s totally okay to feel those things and to process, free of guilt…I didn’t need to be perfect for my friends or anyone else; I am a human like anyone else, and I need to struggle, too.

I went through so many different mindsets, emotions, stages- whatever you’d like to characterize them as- that first year of Emma’s life. I sometimes resented having to work to help provide for our family’s needs; other times, I couldn’t imagine staying home with Emma- the thought terrified me!; other times, I absolutely adored my job and was a little too prideful about being a “working mom”. So many emotions, thoughts, and struggles. I so desperately wanted some labels for myself so I could figure out how to define myself- anything that helped me find solid ground as my life was turned upside down by this big-eyed beauty named Emma B..

That desire for a label kept leading me to podcasts and those groups with other working moms; I longed to feel understood. I wanted to commiserate with other moms who had to get up before 6am to get themselves cleaned up and presentable before waking up their child, only to feed them and then say goodbye to them. I wanted to hear other stories of moms who were struggling with the balance of motherhood and work and who felt endlessly tired and stretched thin. I wanted to know I wasn’t alone, but I also wanted to gather more and more evidence of why my situation was, by far, the hardest.

I kept the list going through my mind on many-a-dark morning drive...all the reasons why I had it the hardest, accompanied with all the reasons why I shouldn’t face those feelings and try to work through them.

Everything sure looked greener on the other side...the “SAHM” side….

Enter, worldwide pandemic and in-person school shutting down.

All of a sudden, JB and I were working from home and parenting full-time last March.

And then summer came and went- and with summer, came our sweet Ethan. And then, came teaching orchestra online while having kids home with me (some of the time).

These past five months of me teaching at home has been a gift in many ways. Two significant things this time has brought me are healing and perspective.

I can now say, two years into parenthood, that I have experienced the working-full-time-outside-of-the-home thing, the working-full-time-inside-of-the-home-thing, and the being-a-stay-at-home-mom thing. Our amazing Gigi still watches our kids the majority of our workdays (praise God for her!), but there are days when I have the kids home with me. Either I am teaching while mommying, or I am taking a day to be with them, but I have now been blessed to have these experiences.

So, here are my reflections on being home while working and parenting…

I truly never saw a plausible scenario where I could spend this much time with our children (except for summers, which is obviously a huge blessing I can so readily forget about when I am throwing myself a I’m-discontent-with-life-pity-party), but that’s exactly what I’ve been able to do. I have been able to have the tea parties, the dressup fashion shows, the giggles, and the rolling over for the first time moments this school year, and I still smile and thank God for these times.

I have experienced this “stay-at-home-mom-life” that I coveted so much and have realized something...working or not -commuting or not-, parenthood is hard!!! Is that freeing for you to read?! Because it’s honestly freeing for me to type. I especially need to write this out now as I approach going back to in-person teaching in two months. 

Parenthood is hard, no matter how you slice and dice it. Yes, getting up at the crack of dawn and having to get everyone ready and out the door, leaving your kids, taking care of other people’s children all day, and doing a long drive home before putting dinner on the table and then doing it all again the next day- those things are hard. But so is making breakfast, lunch, and dinner for a toddler who sometimes goes through a picky phase, or who currently likes to push boundaries by sticking her feet up on the table (yeah, COVID has NOT worked wonders in teaching our toddler about public decorum…). It’s hard to change two diapers every two seconds (okay, it’s usually a little longer than that before we are back to the animal-themed changing tables). And when nap time doesn’t happen, a baby is teething, or a child isn’t feeling well...all bets are off for my mental stability by the end of the day!

I see now that it’s just not even worth comparing- working mom vs. stay-at-home mom. We are so much more than that label anyways. And look! My “label” changed in just a matter of weeks. I went from teaching in person full time to sitting behind a computer at home all day.

God does amazing things through our hearts and lives, and He is our stability and our identity; I am learning to trust Him and stop putting myself in this box that “I am the working mom who can never go to MOPS... I am the working mom who never feels like she can keep all the plates spinning... I am the working mom who is missing out on her kids’ childhoods.”

I have no idea what is in store, but even if I can’t ever make it to a single MOPS meeting (yes I know, another acronym to learn…), I can make a new friend at my place of work. I can text with my closest friends or my dear twin in between classes.

And yeah, it’s true- I can’t keep all the plates spinning. I’m not supposed to. Who ever said I was supposed to handle life perfectly and effortlessly? Why do I put that on myself? If I could balance everything flawlessly, then I would be God. Which would be scary, folks! You don’t want me to be in charge of your lives!! But seriously, I have an amazing God who loves me, takes care of me, only does what is best for me- who works all things for good, even when I feel super discouraged or crabby about my life.

While we are talking about plate-spinning…
My dear husband (affectionately called “DH” in the online world hahaha) gave me this great image when I was talking to him (for the thousandth time) about not being able to spin all the plates: Think of the responsibilities of parenthood as juggling balls: Certain balls are glass and are very fragile; others are plastic and can be dropped and picked back up. That image has truly reshaped my thinking. There are certain things that are glass- taking care of my childrens’ daily needs, bedtime snuggles, work deadlines, lesson plans for the next day. But there are other things that can be put away or even dropped. It’s okay to not be able to do it all; we’re not supposed to.

Emma pulled out her toy viola to play while she sat on my lap
and I taught a Zoom violin lesson!

And as for this lie that I am missing out on my kids’ childhood...I still honestly wrestle with that. I don’t want to look back with regret. But I also want to help lay a solid financial foundation for my kids and help put food on the table (which is a huge blessing to be able to do that when I really think about it...what a gift!).
All I know is that Emma and Ethan know how loved they are. And I know that at the end of the day, Emma wants to rock with Mama and sing with her. I know that Ethan lights up when I walk into the room more than anyone else (yes, it is very milk-driven, but I will take it!!!).
Also, I know that the memories Emma is making with her grandparents while I am working are absolutely priceless treasures. And while I couldn’t have quite put it the same way or typed with the same level of emotion if they were in daycare, I know that those would be wonderful memories and life skills that my kids would have gotten there as well. 

But, here is the real Truth:

God is the True Father of my children. He is with them when I drop them off at Gigi’s, and when I wake them up for breakfast at home in between Zoom classes. And He is my Father, too. He is with me as I drive to school or pad over to my computer desk at home. He is with me as I try to balance maintaining meaningful friendships and a job. He is with me in the emails, the toddler radio songs, the cello practicing, the dinner making, and the baby feeding. He is sitting next to me at the kitchen table as I feed Baby Brother his sweet potatoes, and He is with me as I lay my head down at night, thinking through the next day before I’ve even allowed myself to rest. He is with me when I have too many emotions, or too little emotions and just don’t quite know what I feel. He is with me when I am disappointed in myself or in life. And He is with me when I am on top of the world, smiling at my husband as we celebrate the little miracles He has given us.

I’m not sure how I could better wrap up my late-night musings; to know that I don’t need to prove anything or fit into a specific label is a relief. To know that parenthood and life are full of challenges, but that God uses it all and that I can praise Him, even in the hard moments and seasons, is a strengthening hope.

I pray that these cluttered musings bring you some comfort, too. You are not alone- not only because you have me, but even better...you have Him.

Dead to Me

I’m sitting in the rocking chair with a squishy, chunky baby in my lap. His little feet are hanging over the edge of my La-Z-Boy-rocking-chair because his legs have gotten so long. I can hear his little snores as he continues to desperately convince himself to sleep. He just got back from the doctor, and he is fussy and tired from shots and a thrown-off nap schedule. 

In the room right next to us, I hear 2 year-old Emma banging her feet on the solid back of her crib. I feel flashes of frustration with every kick...I’m frustrated with myself for not reinforcing in her sooner to not do that and guilting myself over that... And I feel just straight-up frustration toward her for doing that, especially when I feel unable to do anything but sit here quietly as my son sleeps in my arms. 

That’s real life right now, in this moment. It was just as much real life thirty minutes ago when I was laying in Emma’s “tent tent” (what she calls the teepee we have in her room) with her, stroking her hair and reading a sweet book about music with her.

Every day as a parent is filled with realities- lots of different feelings, toddler redirections, naps, sweet interactions, and difficulties that are constantly changing.

I can be really, really hard on myself when I lay down at night and feel emotionally chaotic- I call it “swirly”; I don’t like feeling like I’m not in control (are we ever, though?!). And yet when I think about the rollercoaster of emotions and needs that I tend to on a daily basis, it makes a lot more sense why I don’t feel “zen” and collected sometimes.

A paramount thing I have learned in my few years of parenthood: being a parent is a constant friction of my own selfishness and my kids’ needs and desires. And I deeply, deeply need Jesus to help me every moment...That’s a fun pill to swallow! They didn’t talk about that in the birthing class…

It’s hard to accept this and to live out. It’s a constant battle, but it is worth the good fight. 

I first noticed this internal, spiritual battle when JB and I got married. Marriage is amazing and crazy, isn’t it?! To think that two people who came from different environments with different preferences, personalities, ideas, thoughts, styles, dreams, fears, struggles...come together and build a family- a brand new creation- and labor together to raise this little family well while taking care of a home and accomplishing goals together...it’s incredible! I think I can easily forget what hard work that is.

JB and I often reflect on how marriage is a complete dying to self. It’s what God called us to do, but that doesn’t mean it comes naturally! Yet JB does it so well. He often says, “If I’m not thinking of you first, I’m doing something wrong.” What a gift of a man!

But there are those moments for both of us where we have that internal struggle of, “I don’t feel like doing this right now...I don’t want to have another conversation about this… “I wish they would just do it themselves instead…” etc.. It’s very humbling to work through that thought and hear His Spirit say, “Yes, but…”.

Marriage is that first level of selflessness (in our opinion). Parenthood is not only the next level, but a whole other realm of dying to self. Our children depend on us for every single need at this stage. Emma can feed herself any snacks she can reach off the kitchen table (which I quickly realized this morning when I left a bag of snacks for our car ride to the pediatrician on the table, went to get some diapers for the diaper bag, and came back to find Emma sitting on the kitchen floor with her rainbow jacket and purple sweatpants on and bag of crackers in hand!), but that’s about the extent of any self-sufficiency in our kiddos right now. 

And that’s a beautiful, exhausting, crazy thing. Whether it’s a basic need or not, our kids need us so much right now. I think people imparted that wisdom to me when I was pregnant with Emma, and I probably nodded and smiled and rubbed my belly and thought, “That sounds fun!”. But living out this calling is quite another thing. 

I always loved feeling “needed”- emotionally or physically- growing up. Sometimes it was a really wonderful thing, and other times it led me to unhealthy relationships or a lack of boundaries. To be needed by two little beings and by my husband can sometimes feel completely strengthening and thrilling and other times, totally draining and I-want-to-hide-in-my-room-esque. 

So naturally, I want to know why that is such a struggle for me- the neediness of my sweet humans- and when I sit down and pray about it, I know the answer. It’s me. It’s my (and every other human being’s) struggle. We are selfish and sinful. We naturally think of ourselves first (although knowing myself more than anyone else on this planet, I believe I might be one of the worst haha). God lovingly reminds me that I have a choice- to embrace my selfish desires and thoughts, or to die to self. 

I love the idea of dying to self that Paul writes about in Philippians, but PHEW is it hard to live out sometimes! He says:

“But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith- that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him and his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already obtained this or I’m already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own... I press on toward the goal for the price of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”

-Philippians 3:7-12, 14

When I read this Scripture and actually apply it to my life and my sinfulness, it all clicks. I realize something that is so obvious to me and yet so easily forgotten: “Whoa; parenthood isn’t about me and what I want! Neither is marriage…” Of course, there are those absolutely untouchable moments: dancing with my daughter while my baby son giggles, smiling at my husband and being silly with each other as we drive away from our wedding ceremony as husband and wife- but that is not the sole purpose, identity, or dream that I should be striving to make reality. 

My purpose as a wife and mom is to be Jesus’ hands and feet to my people; I am His instrument (I love that idea, being a musician!). And then as I continue to zoom out with that perspective, I am reminded all over again that this is my purpose in life in general- to become more like Jesus and to show His loving heart toward everyone I meet.

This doesn’t mean I will do it perfectly...it’s quite the opposite! This is a big place where I struggle. Because in my mind, if I’m not effortlessly floating through life, singing to the birds and moose (yup, that’s what Alaskans do...okay, not really), then how am I showing people that life with Jesus is the best decision I’ve ever made? And even more embarrassing to admit, how can people admire how joyful and wonderful I am if I struggle (me, me, me haha)? It’s such an impractical way to put a bunch of pressure and focus on myself instead of accepting that I am just as broken and needy as everyone else, that I need Jesus, and that He does amazing things through and with my brokenness- with my negative emotions, with my fears, my selfishness, and pride. Also, focusing more and more on my imperfections and berating myself for them adds so much fog to the reflection of who I truly am- His beloved, cherished daughter. I can’t live out my purpose and identity nearly as well when I am focusing on things other than the Truth. 

Can you tell I think about way too many deep things on a daily basis?!? It’s amazing I get anything done! But I’m praising God for how He made me- to be a silly, deep thinker. An extrovert and a talker. Someone who loves to write and process. Someone who gets hooked on weird reality survival shows (the show Alone is basically like my life in Alaska...except for the living-off-the-land, building-a-fire, being-totally-alone, and not-bathing-myself thing...okay, maybe it’s just similar to our extreme weather patterns and wildlife). 

Today, I choose to lay my daily wants down. I’m not beating myself up for struggling with my selfishness. I’m not even ashamed that I can get grumpy when I sometimes prefer to go take a nap or watch a movie with my husband instead of preparing a chicken nugget dinner or a rubber duck baby bath. That’s okay! But I’m praising God that He gives me the strength to run this race. I am praising Him that I do not have to do this perfectly, feeling all fuzzy inside every time I get up and make another breakfast or put in another load of laundry. Stripping away those expectations of myself helps me to just embrace my messy, beautiful calling and to see my Savior ever clearer. 

He loves us, and He wants more for us than self-imposed unrealistic expectations or sulking self-centeredness. He wants me and you to feel and accept His deep, sacrificial love for us. 

Let’s continue to fight the good fight in our callings, identity, and actions. He is with us, He is for us, and He is doing a mighty work through us!

Five Years Ago...

I tend to view my life like a movie. Sometimes that really gets me into trouble...like when I think that the minute JB walks out the door, he’s going to get in some scary hostage situation and I’ll have to chase him around the globe. That makes me tired even thinking about it…but I'd still hop all those balconies for you, JB!

Other times, I think my imaginative heart brings some special sweetness to life. It’s especially poetic when I think back through my life thus far and see all that has happened; it just feels so beautiful and purposeful...because it is! Five years ago today, I left my parents’ house in Detroit to fly back to Alaska, and I also left a toxic relationship. 

I don’t think much about those days any more, but I was on the edge of committing my life to a relationship that in many ways is the complete opposite of mine and JB’s- stressful, unpredictable, a rollercoaster, deflating. I’ve purposefully forgotten many of the details of that relationship, but I’ll never forget how I felt. And to look forward and see that I am in a loving, beautiful marriage where I am not only seen, heard, and understood, but I am cherished and celebrated could bring tears to my eyes!!

I went into that winter break those five years ago holding my toxic relationship with open hands, fervently asking God to reveal to me the next step: commit or break it off. And He made it very clear to me on New Year’s Day in 2016. It was painful and hurtful, but I remember feeling a deep sense of inner peace that it was the right decision for me to walk away and that God was with me and cherished me. 

I have only been awake for 20 minutes this morning, and this passage from Romans has already popped up twice for me: “For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” ‭‭Romans‬ ‭8:38-39

God is always with me and is always speaking His love over me; He drew extra close to me in those weeks and months after my breakup. I needed to be revived by His love. The broken parts of my heart and of my views of myself needed mending. And through friendship, teaching, and adventure, He guided me. But most importantly, it was sitting on the soft carpet of my rented room in Juneau, crying out to Him and desperately seeking His Truth, that gave me life. It was a hard, hard process. And it took me a long time to recover emotionally. But He was there. 

Flash forward a year, and I met JB. I still had a lot I was working through. I had trust issues, an engrained expectation that it wouldn’t work out, and a small but growing self-esteem. JB met me there and was so patient and loving. He has never let me down or broken a promise, and he has never changed his mind about me. I am so fully loved and adored by him. And he allows me to give that same love to him. 

And it’s all through the grace of God. That love, that acceptance- I craved to receive that from God more than anyone else, and I still do...even when I don’t realize it. And what’s so beautiful about it? His love is always there. Nothing can separate His love from me. I am covered and protected; I am His.

I pray that if you feel the same way, you can celebrate with me today.

I pray that if you don’t feel the same way, you can pray to Him and ask His love to come into your life. And then reach out to a fellow believer (even me)! 

Today our baby boy turns seven months old, and our 2-year-old daughter is singing hymns with us. A lot has changed in the past five years. I am eternally grateful.