When Your Motherhood is Tired


Hey, Momma.

I know.

I know those tired eyes and that sleepy soul. I see the dirt smudges on your knees from crawling through playground tunnels. I hear the sigh you heaved after changing your second diaper in five minutes.

You bind imaginary wounds with superhero Band-Aids. You can be found jammin’ out to the Fresh Beat band—not realizing you’re actually alone. You’ve scraped sticky-sweet syrup from the floor ten times this week, even though you can’t remember when last you mopped. What’s the use?

You have days when your motherhood is tired.

The scary preschooler screams for 45 minutes in the morning about what shoes he wasn’t going to wear. You threatened to take every last blessed one of those stinkin’ shoes to the dump.

The preteen rolled her eyes so far back you think for a moment, maybe an alien did invade. And, for a longer minute than you should, you wish you could shrink her and cuddle her and rock her all over again.

You serve your second frozen pizza in a week, and you don’t think twice about letting your littles go to bed without brushing their teeth because that’s five extra minutes you have to yourself once they’re finally under their sheets.

And when you manage to lay your head down at night, you’re left wondering in the heavy silence, What am I even doing here? This is not what I imagined motherhood to be. What if I fail? And a million other wonderings and second-guessings.

There’s no glamor in mothering.

It’s not shiny and polished.

There’s no award for still breathing and nursing and burping and diapering after only sleeping four out of 48 hours. There’s no medal of honor given for the nights of praying on your knees until your teen walks in after curfew.

While we may not enter motherhood looking for a trophy, we’re desperate to know mothering is worth the exhaustion, the tears, the worry. Will we ever witness the fruit of our labor?

So I’m here to whisper in your ear.

I’m here to remind you.

It’s important work, raising young souls–the most important work.

You’re doing it. Every day. This molding and shaping and forming of humans that will impact our world.

When the tiredness of motherhood drapes its thick, dark blanket of weary over your shoulders, please hear my words: You’re an amazing mom. Don’t give up. The human you’re raising is worth the struggle.

When the fatigue of this mothering life reaches the deep pits, and you’re scared you won’t be able to crawl out from the darkness? Intentionally look for Hope.

Because, if we’re looking, there are moments of heaven on earth with our children. Moments of brilliant hope. Moments when, after you’ve read to your preschooler and exhaustion drips from your skin, he’ll curl into your shoulder, look into your eyes, and whisper, “I never want to leave you, momma.”

Then you’ll know. You’ll know you don’t need a medal or a trophy. You’ll know you don’t need shiny and polished. You’ll know.

No role on earth holds the tender life of another in our hearts like motherhood.

It’s worth the tired. Worth the hard work. Worth every second and every tear.

And, Momma? You’re a good mom.



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