A few days ago, we discovered Huddy can open the fridge. As you can imagine, in the mind of a 1.5 year old that is always hungry, never full, always wanting to eat, opening the fridge is like coming downstairs on Christmas morning. However, if you can imagine, in the mind of a 34 year old mom of two under the age of 3, running a business, and constantly keeping her kids from getting in to EVERYTHING, it’s like coming downstairs to….trash thrown all over the floor. Or in this case, eggs.

So, usually, when I’m in another room or upstairs, I can hear what the kids are doing. Let me explain. When I’m upstairs and hear some noise downstairs like a bang or a tinkle or a jingle, I know EXACTLY what toy they are playing with OR what they are getting into that they shouldn’t be.

It was an exhausting day already. I wasn’t feeling well. I had just gotten groceries and put them away, so I went to lay down on my back on the floor for a minute to let myself just…lay down. Hudson was playing with me on the floor. After a while, I realized he’s gone into the kitchen. Usually, he’ll just play with the play kitchen in there or gets out the tupperware containers. I heard some noises in there that didn’t sound familiar. But I was too tired and too…not feeling well, to get up to see what it was. I kept calling his name, but like a normal 1.5 year old, he did not come to me. After hearing what sounded like a crack and a smoosh, I decided to go see what was up.

When I turn the corner to see the fridge door wide open, I see Hudson was sitting down with 1 dozen eggs in his lap, taking them out one by one, cracking and smashing them on the floor. My first thought was to take a picture (but I was too tired for that), and then my second thought was…ok, don’t cry…it’s not a big deal. My third thought was…who or what do I clean up first?
I decided to clean up Huddy first, gave him a bath and got all the egg yolk off of him. Thankfully, Eloise understood not to go in the kitchen while I was upstairs cleaning him up. Then, I came downstairs to clean up the eggs off my kitchen floor. Have you ever tried to clean up eggs from the floor? It’s impossible and slippery and hard to hold on to. Also, it’s gross. It’s just gross.

Normally, if it were any other day, I probably would’ve cried. I was exhausted and not feeling well and had all the reason to cry when I saw those eggs. Thankfully, I didn’t cry this time. Motherhood is hard. It’s very hard. It’s hard to see your sin in how you lash out at your kids. It’s hard to see your laziness when you don’t feel like telling them the Gospel after they’ve been disciplined. It’s also just hard to keep up with two kids under 3. (shout out to all you mamma’s keeping up with multiple kids under 3). My patience grows thin, my grace gives way, and my posture turns into a hump back.

BUT! (don’t you love that word sometimes! God’s Word uses the word “but” to share good news quite often. It can be so life-giving) BUT…the hard parts in motherhood are only a drop in the bucket compared to all the joy and laughter and sweet tender moments you get to have. I love watching my kids explore. I love watching them learn to play with others. I love having girl’s night with Eloise so that we can grow in our relationship with trust and hopefully continue those on when she’s older. I love kissing my kids until I feel like I can remember the softness of their chubby cheeks against my lips.

I would hate for anyone to watch other people with kids and thank the Lord they are not in that situation now. I get it. I used to think the same thing. One time, Eloise was about 6 months old and we went to Panera Bread. She started throwing a fit so we left. On our way out, I heard a lady say “and that is why I don’t have kids.” First, rude. Second, please don’t see the hard times parents go through and this is just what life is like for us. The good times far outweigh the hard times. And often, when our kids throw fits, we usually know exactly why. It’s either that they are tired, hungry, over-stimulated, or just bored. In this case, I think we were coming back from a long trip and she was just tired.

Anyway, motherhood is hard but AMAZING! Crying over broken eggs on my kitchen floor is just a typical day in the life. You can either choose to either clean it up and have a laugh or look at your situation and sit down and cry (which I have often done as well). There’s no shame in being frustrated. You’re a sinner, living with sinners, raising little sinners. God’s grace is sufficient.


Update: Motherhood, “Don’t Cry Over Broken Eggs”


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