Mommy Confession: Burned Chicken

Multitask. Yes. I thought I was an expert. Then I had Buddy. Oh dear. My youth say it like this… #thestruggleisreal.

It was a Monday… it could have been any day really. And here I was… typing a blog, holding a nummy in Buddy’s mouth, and chicken cooking on the stove. It was going so well until I had to use the bathroom.

Why does it all fall apart when I sneak to the bathroom?

On the way I hear the computer beep and the blue screen of death appears, the nummy pops out and Buddy screams like it’s going out of style, and above the beeping and the screaming I hear the chicken boiling over on the stove and a faint tinge of burned chicken broth filling the air.

Why, Lord? Why?

Multitask? Yeah right. 

What’s with my need to do it all… at once? Always fighting to get ahead so I’m all the time squeezing it in at the same time when there’s really no time. And whether it’s the post-partum hair loss or not, I’m literally pulling my hair out. I’m there trying to do it all and heaven knows it’s just not happening.

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But then yesterday I had a moment. It was more than a moment actually. It was an hour. A full hour. It was almost noon and I was still wearing pajamas with a messy bun (a morning messy bun… not the cute kind you work an hour to perfect). I heard the dryer sound that a load of clothes was finished. I knew Hubby would be home soon looking for lunch. But Buddy was content after a feeding and changing. I was reading a book with him in his nursery and then I decided to read another and another. Then we sang and rocked and talked. With all the things I should have or could have been doing I decided to just be.

To be there.
To be present.
To be mom. 

And then that evening it happened again. There were so many things I could have been juggling but it was almost bath time and when I took off his little sleeper…

… the folds of his precious skin
… the curling of his little toes
… the peek-a-boo dimple in his cheek
… the gurgle behind his sneaky smile.

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I decided to just be.

To be there. 
To be present. 
To be mom. 

I grabbed his fuzzy blanket and we lay on the floor together, reading and laughing and talking some more. Hubby heard us from the other room, left what he was doing and got down there with us. There we were working for a smile and tickling a tiny tummy, and I’m thankful for the birds eye view my spirit had of that beautiful scene with the world just buzzing about and us just simply still. Just being.

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I know that every moment can’t be those moments. There’s an end to the clean undies. Everybody’s got to eat. Somebody’s got to work. I get that.

But if I’m learning anything from this new season of motherhood, it’s that it’s okay to just be sometimes. In fact, I need it. My family needs it.

And if you’re honest, you need it too. You need to leave the dishes in the sink. You need to leave the dust bunnies under the table. You need to leave the bed unmade. You need to embrace that moment… you know the one that catches you by surprise and paints a smile on your face and your heart.

Because in those moments who really cares about burnt chicken…

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