Would you like to hear how a real mom’s New Year’s resolution goes? I’m not talking about the empowering blogs spinning around on Pinterest that guarantee to make you lose twenty pounds in twenty days with the ultimate cleanse. I’m talking about real-life moms who are just struggling to clean-up the mess left from Christmas and get the house back in order. I don’t mean like real, pre-kid order, but you know, as close as you can get with dried cheese on the rug and tiny, plastic Barbie forks popping up everywhere.
I have decided that New Year’s resolutions are eerily similar to parenthood. You spend every morning saying today is going to be different. Today I’m going to take control of this chaotic situation. I’m going to be a better me!
You lay out plans, you pray, and you become super-excited for the new way you’ll handle this particular obstacle that has a hand around your neck, and is choking you nearly unconscious. You’re eager for change, and you’re optimistic.
Then by the end of the day you’re near tears over your apparent failure, and you’re crying, “please God. Help me do better tomorrow.”
I have the perfect New Year’s resolution, and I decided upon it yesterday morning. It’s been building naturally, a growing desire inside me for improvement of self.
Yesterday morning I declared, “2015 will be a year of less yelling.” I decided it would be a year where a calmer mom prevailed, one who didn’t scream at her offspring anymore over insignificant matters.
God had been speaking to my mommy heart, for forever, and I just knew that my mommy rage was an affront to Him. I knew that my children weren’t seeing the character of Christ when I flew off the handle. They were seeing that character from Looney Toons, the Tasmanian Devil.
I was bound and determined to let God calm my spirit and help me be a better mother. I had certainly been in intercession for my alter-ego, aka Crazy Mom, and I had been pleased to see God working miracles like He tends to do. I had seen myself be slower to anger, and even my husband had commented on my chillax behavior as of late. Hallelujah!
So with the new confidence earned from not flipping out over my toddler destroying the tray of Christmas cookies I felt I was up for the challenge. The New Year would bring more calm Mom, and less Scary Mommy.
But then the kids woke up.
After an hour spent cleaning without even making a dent, and Cheerios spilt on the rug right after vacuuming I began to unknowingly backslide. After cleaning up puddles of pee and picking up piles of discarded dirty laundry I realized the anger was building in me. And even as I saw it coming I was almost powerless to keep it at bay. Suddenly I realized the new, calm mom of 2015 was screaming at her kids, and it was still December.
I had failed before I had even began. My New Year’s resolution lay spilled on the carpet beside a pile of crushed breakfast cereal, and I felt about as low as the puddle of pee beside the front door.
You know what real moms do? Real moms fail. We fail at resolutions and we fail at life. Every day. Mommy fail? You betcha. A picture of my living room and life would never make the Pinterest cut. But you know what else moms do?
They don’t give up.
So I didn’t do so well with my New Year’s resolution. Well, I’ll just call it a trial run. Like every day in the life of a parent I will often times fall flat on my face, and I will fail miserably. In my eyes that is.
In the eyes of my children I’m the model of perseverance. I get out of bed every day, and I do it again. Even when the last thought before crashing into my pillow is I stink at this.
Moms don’t surrender, and they try again. They look for ways to be better, and sometimes they cry when they miss the mark. But then they start over, and they try again. It’s kind of like laundry and dishes. It’s a continuous improvement project of epic proportion.
So what’s the thing about real moms and New Year’s resolutions? The thing is they’ll probably break them. But then they’ll glue them back together the next day. After all, everybody knows Mom can fix anything. Eventually.