If there’s one thing that brings women together, it’s the shared experience of bringing up babies. We're proud (but sleep deprived) ticket holders on the crazy train. Slap-happy anyone?
Being a great mom is a huge undertaking, especially while keeping spouses and friends feeling loved at the same time.
Our number one goal: Keep the kids alive.
When they think they can fly...hold the glue gun “all by myself"...learn to pop a wheelie, and...
...decide that football is a great sport because “It's fun to hit people and never get in trouble.”
(True statement from a real child. I won't confirm or deny whether he's mine).
After all the parental supervision, the rest of the teaching, molding, and cuddling is icing on the cake! Every time we take a moment to appreciate the art of motherhood, we feel a little less alone in the world.
So take a hot second to relax and pour that second cup of coffee.
Here are the 10 BEST Motherhood Quotes in History...that is, in the history of the Gritty Pearl:
You did it! You rocked childbirth and motherhood came at you in full force.
You dreamed and prayed. Waited. Suffered those nasty underbelly cramps as you shimmied your way through Zumba eight months pregnant.
You and your husband even put together the crib a whole week before your due date. Who cares if one of the bolts is on backwards and you can’t remove it, short of a construction miracle? The eco-friendly, allergen-free, non-gender biased dust-ruffle covers it up anyway.
As far as we’re concerned, you #NailedIt!
In the thick of the mom routine, you're like a pro on autopilot. Nothing surprises you anymore.
Feed. Wash kids. Nap. Potty train. Send to school. Clean house. Do personal work somewhere in between. Love husband. Repeat.
You could do this thing in your sleep. In fact, you are sleeping—standing at the kitchen sink. But somewhere in the chaos of the daily grind, it's easy to lose perspective. Moms try to be everything to everybody. We love hard--so hard that we don’t realize it when we’ve gone off course.
Here are some bad habits we need to kick as moms...
Spiders and cobwebs cloak the front porches lining our streets. Kids are over-extended, but vibrant with energy from trunk-or-treats, block parties, and school festivals. Mine certainly are. Six o'clock came way too early for the Gemelli household this morning. I can appreciate the fact that not everybody participates in Halloween. I get it.
But as for my family, I'm going to tell you how Harry Potter became an evangelist this week. And J.K. Rowling might drop her butter beer at the news.
My Kids Can Be Selfish and So Can I: Three Ideas for Building "Otherness" (And #GritUp Writer's Collective)
It's August already. How did that happen? Time flies as the beach beckons, complete with an oversized umbrella and a glass of sweet tea. Many of us have been on the wedding circuit these past few months. Rather than traveling the Tour de Nuptiale, perhaps you've celebrated an anniversary recently. Summertime brings more than its share of opportunities to examine our own relationships as we lend our support to others'.
Please join together in welcoming Carrie Boos to the Gritty Pearl this week. Carrie is a dear friend, a fierce woman of faith, and a survivor of parents' worst fears. We trust that her story will fill you with hope and embolden you to face your own giants.
I can remember the worst day of my life like it was yesterday. I was 34-years-old, seven months pregnant with my third girl, and working in my classroom. Throughout an anxious day of teaching, I'd been waiting for a call from my doctor. When it finally came, my life was turned upside down.
I’m sorry, you have cancer. It's spread.
She couldn't focus. In fact, she couldn't even function. She just sat there at her desk, crying off and on throughout the day. Just 7-years-old and buried under the belief that the president-elect hated her, she was devastated. While others celebrated the passing of the torch in the White House, young *Mya couldn't help but to wonder how her friends could be so happy. This was the man who said that she and her family were bad people. At least, that's what she'd been told...
The story is true and it happened in the days following the election. I know this young lady personally and others like her. This week we're talking about our adult responsibility to teach children about the world in terms that are both appropriate for their age, and sensitive to their hearts. Welcome to the conversation...
No bumper stickers ornament my truck. Confession: I just can't be trusted with them. No Jesus fish. Family stick figures. Church symbols. Product names. We do have a soccer magnet that my kids like to move around the side panels, but the sport's known for attracting hotheads. I guess if I make a traffic no-no then, I told ya so.
The dog leash is wound tightly around my wrist. Her little body begins to shake the moment the bus comes lumbering around the corner, eventually rolling to a stop. She chases her tail, excited and anticipating boy cuddles after a long school day apart. Oversized backpack slung over his shoulder and a coat hanging off one elbow, my youngest meanders down the bus steps, hollering final goodbye's to his friends. He doesn't notice that his brother isn't following behind like usual. Chattering. Gathering things that have likely dropped on the floor during the ride. I think of a million reasons for a delay by my social butterfly.
But then, he appears. Eyes welling with tears, he stumbles down the stairs and throws himself into a bear hug, burying his face in my jacket. Alarmed, I guide his eyes up to mine and give him a questioning look. "She said our house looks stupid, Mom. She thinks we're funny and she made fun of Jesus."
My family's a little weird. Well, maybe I'm just weird and my husband goes along with it. It doesn't phase him when I come up with a "let's try something new" idea. In fact, one of my very favorite things about that man is that he's never bowed down to other people's opinions about him. "Sure, why not?" is the response I usually get. I've spent a lifetime trying to figure out how to do that - letting God sand down the rough edges of my "permission-seeking" over the years.
This is exactly how we ended up with a Christmas tree in our living room.
M.S. in Marriage and Family Therapy. Earns Crossfit participation trophies. Disaster cook. Enthusiastic wife. #Boymom. Clutches her faith, not her pearls.