On Being Capable

Art by Caitlin Connolly

Today left me wondering if I am indeed capable of handling another child.

This morning I sorted the recycling while the little boys played in the van. While I took a quick call, Joseph begged me over and over for my car keys with that mischievous look in his eyes. He persisted to ask louder and louder and I eventually had to go inside to finish my phone call. I came back to the van minutes later to find him trying to start the van with a butter knife. I let out a sigh, tried to hide my smirk, and explained the danger of starting a car without a mommy or daddy.

Later in the afternoon Camilla and a friend came back to play. The front door didn't quite latch, and I found it wide open when I walked up stairs to check on Hyrum. I then noticed Finley's bedroom light on and thought it was odd since he was supposed to be napping. I couldn't hear either of the boys and immediately realized they must have went out the front door. I found Hyrum running back to the house to get me, and Finley in the arms of a dear neighbor friend who happened to be walking by shortly after the "great escape". She passed him off to me like it was no big deal, but my chest was pounding and my face turned red with embarrassment. He hadn't made it too far, but far enough that he was crying and afraid. In talking with Hyrum and asking why he didn't just pick him up and bring him inside, I realized that he was torn between obeying my rule about crossing roads without a Mommy and saving his little brother. He then reassured me that the street was "completely peaceful" the whole time (thank-goodness). I held it together until I shut the front door and then I burst into tears. Tears of embarrassment, gratitude for his safety, inadequacy... I couldn't help but feel like I wasn't capable to take on the responsibility of another child.

I immediately grabbed my phone. I desperately needed someone to tell me that I was capable, that I could do this, that I was doing a good job, that it was normal to feel this way. I dialed a few different numbers and finally got a hold of my Gramma (who could hardly understand me as I cried). She told me a few stories of similar experiences, reassured me that I was doing a wonderful job, that I had great kids, and that these things happen.

Finley seemed a bit warm and had a mild cough most of the day. By the late afternoon I was so exhausted that I slipped in a few winks while he drifted off to sleep on my shoulder. I woke to the sound of Camilla giggling at my open mouth and uncomfortable position. I smiled as I blinked the sleep from my eyes and hugged her. They were all hungry for dinner, and it was time to get up.

Shortly after dinner my dear friend texted me and told me to listen to the song "Dirty Dishes" by Scotty McCreery. I had told her about my day and she was thinking about me. It's basically about being grateful for the slamming doors, laundry, dirty dishes and a tired husband who provides, because it means you have happy kids, clothes to wear, food to eat, and money to spare.

The trenches of motherhood are exhausting. My floors are constantly sticky, my bathrooms constantly need cleaning, there is laundry everywhere to be washed or folded, and my sink is constantly filled with dishes. There are fights to break up, lessons to be taught, messes to be cleaned...It seems like it never ends. Some nights I literally fall into bed, completely drained from the days events, only to be awakened moments later to sooth a crying child, comfort someone who had a bad dream, or fill up a sippy cup for the tenth time.

Finley has woken up three times already tonight coughing and I have rubbed his warm head and ran my fingers through his hair each time. I have a feeling I'm in for a long night. But I am grateful that I get to be the one to comfort him and kiss his soft cheeks while he rests.

I recognize that this is only a short season in my life. I know that the happy chaos will soon come to an end. I adore being a mother. But some days are just plain hard. And today I was grateful for supportive friends and family who reassured me that everything is going to be okay, and that I am capable. There's a huge difference between feeling capable, and being capable. I am grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who helps me know that I am capable. Who only gives me what I can handle and stretches me to my potential. Tomorrow is a new day (just pray my children don't wake up at 5:00am again...)!

"As a mother guided by the Lord, you weave a fabric of character in your children from threads of truth through careful instruction and worthy example. You imbue the traits of honesty, faith in God, duty, respect for others, kindness, self-confidence, and the desire to contribute, to learn, and to give in your trusting children’s minds and hearts. No day-care center can do that. It is your sacred right and privilege." - Richard G. Scott