Grace

A Letter to My Older Self.

We all have a job.  Some of us don’t get paid, but we all work.  My job is currently my kids.  And, in the midst of fighting to be a good mom, I spend A LOT of time thinking about all the things I don’t do well enough.

Our memories are often a rose-colored version of the truth.  I fear, however, my memory of parenting toddlers will be a romanticized version of who they were and a mean-ugly-dragon version of who I was.

So I wrote a letter to myself.

BECAUSE BEING A MOM IS THE HARDEST THING I’LL EVER DO.  AND SOMETIMES YOU NEED TO PROTECT YOURSELF, TOO…


Darling Heather (aka Older Me),

Let me start by saying you are looking fabulous.  Thinner.  Are you thinner?

Problem is you’re sitting alone in a playground right now, aren’t you?  (I was afraid of this)  Clearly, it’s high time we had a talk… So find some space out of earshot from others, because we know how poorly you cry quietly.

You HATE play grounds.

Clearly, the only reason you are here is because your now not-so-little-ones want to be somewhere else… without you.  And you’re wishing, with a regretful heart, that you’d put on a brave face and come here more often all those years their small sticky hands pulled and begged to play in the sand with you.

Back home, the house is now spotless.  You’ve waited a long time for clean floors, organized drawers and scuff-free walls.  But, I’m guessing, at this moment you’re missing all the smeared windows, sharp toys lost in carpets, disheveled sofa pillows and strategically hidden pacifiers.

In the peace of the morning, you’ve found lots of time to sit and drink your latte – while it’s still hot. (!)  You finally have space to think.  But this “quiet” isn’t as fun as you’d expected.  Left to your thoughts, you miss balancing the pleas for banana pancakes, sword fights with salad tongs, forcing apart tiny defiant lego pieces–all as you “COME and SEE!” a massive poop accomplishment in the potty.

But, mostly, you’re sorry that you weren’t more patient, gentle, attentive and forgiving of two small boys who watched and waited for your every response.

They needed you to be their champion, but sometimes, instead of protecting them, you made excuses to other people for them.  Why, instead of caring for their hearts, did you care for the judgmental attitudes of strangers?

No longer dependent on you, they’d prefer to champion for themselves today.  And you wonder if you taught them to believe enough in themselves to do it with the excellence, perseverance, and confidence they so fully deserve.

You complained, yelled and impatiently plowed your way through too much of it… and now it’s over.  They need you differently now and sometimes that means they need you to step away.  And it’s hard.

Very.

Very.

Hard.

So you’re sitting alone in a playground wishing to do it all over – differently.

But that’s why a younger you wrote this, because you’ve got it wrong.

You are a great mom.

While writing this very letter, you’re sitting beside Brenner who has you watching a YouTube video about something called “SkyLanders”, while he simultaneously discusses the “new world” he can make for you on Minecraft.  Sawyer is sleeping hard after a morning of trains, tickles, and snacks.  All the while, you’re typing and fighting tears because you love these boys so completely that your heart feels like it might actually burst through your skin.  As you question whether you give them all they truly deserve, Brenner unsolicitedly “hard-hugs” you, then, without a word, returns to playing.

This is a tough job.  Some days all you do is recover from one accident, fight, pee puddle and bruised knee after another.  Over and over you pick yourself back up.  You forgive, you teach, you apologize, you laugh, you cry, you START OVER.

Time will make you forget how hard you fought for them – how much of yourself you gladly sacrificed.

BUT Remember:

  • You didn’t sit still (ever).
  • You dropped everything for spontaneous dance parties and “shark attack” chases.
  • Before bed, when you’d tell Sawyer how special he is, he’d reply with a simple, ” I KNOW that already, m-o-o-o-o-m!”
  • Brenner talks to Jesus when he’s scared.  And he’s certain he will get a “top bunk” in heaven because you’ve told him over and over how God loves him and hears his heart’s desires.
  • The house gets trashed at least 5 times a day and, in an effort to give your family the peace of an organized home, you clean it up over and over.  Often, without a word of frustration.
  • You LAUGH all the time.
  • [This is where you, dear reader, can insert your myriad experiences with your own children]
  • You travel the world even though it’s exhausting and HARD with toddlers.
  • You sing songs, read books, build colossal fire stations, buy swords, and eat popcorn for dinner.
  • You know every version of noise one could possibly make.  Even on another floor of the house, one tiny sound tells you there are marbles, trucks, climbing, water, and all manner of other normally indecipherable things happening.
  • You know when a cry means you have to run or when it means you’ll have to correct.
  • You throw away diarrhea-stained carpets, broken memoirs, and your ruined dresses without holding onto any anger.
  • You make time when it’s the last thing you feel like doing.
  • You pray together, plan together, and dream together with a heart whereby a three- and five-year old can relate.
  • You yell at walls, floors, toys, and anything else that has “caused” injury to them because they think that’s what all parents do.

And you got A LOT of stuff wrong, that’s just the truth.  Because in life, we ALL get lots and lots of things wrong.  But you’re getting them wrong while fighting to get them right.  And these kids are yours.  They reflect you, know you and truly love you.  They are crazy, fun, hard, wonderful small people.  And they will grow into courageous big people because you are a woman full of courage.

Plus, you are not done.  You’ll welcome all of their friends into your home – feeding them, laughing with them, and, yes, giving them space to BE them.  You have sporting events to scream at, banquets to attend, university rooms to decorate (and clean), daughters-in-law to love and so so much more.

It’s time to leave this park and go by a rockin’ new dress.  You have an adoring husband coming home soon, who DOES still want you around.  And now you have time sit and laugh with him.  Tonight, talk about all the things you loved about raising two tough toddler boys.  Then toast to being the kind of parents who will have to write a new “letter to your older self” to get through the next phase when you’ll feel lost.  After all, they just keep growing.

And it’s possible you might end up that creepy old mom in the children’s book “I’ll Love You Forever”… rocking your adult kids while they sleep. If you do, we’ll have a letter for that too. We’re in this together.

XOXO,

Your Younger You

 

 

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  • Miriam September 15, 2014 at 8:57 am

    i love you. and i love that you are a sentimental, pondering “sap” just like i am. i too think often of the days when they will be gone and the many times i made excuses not to play with them. breaks my heart again and again. we really are too hard on ourselves. some kids don’t have a mom to love them and take care of them every day. that’s really all they want (besides a lot of playing ;-))!
    by the way, love the “you HATE playgrounds.” i think i will just frame that, that already says it all, LOL.

    • Heather Yoder September 23, 2014 at 8:54 pm

      I feel like pretty much every mom out there goes through these moments – the questioning if they do it well (any of it!). God did a good thing when he gave us friends that are also mom’s. So people like you and me can laugh and cry together…. and certainly have!

  • Jacki September 15, 2014 at 2:10 pm

    Beautiful. Honestly just a beautiful picture! We recently decided to cyber school our two oldest boys, we also have a 3 year old who is adventuresome to put it mildly! Our life is crazy, loud, and dramatic. We rarely go anywhere without leaving an impression, and sometimes I get lost in the balancing act! 2 middle schoolers and a toddler…..this is just what I needed to read to start the week. Thank you!

    • Heather Yoder September 23, 2014 at 8:57 pm

      Jacki – you make me laugh. My family also leaves an “impression” everywhere we go. You should have seen the impression we left at the drug store last week… oh my! What you are doing is so brave. I envy your courage. And I like that you say it like it is too. We love these kids in ways they probably don’t understand, but even that doesn’t matter, because we can’t help but love them that fully (and yell that fully, and cry that fully, and….). Thank you for sharing.

  • Tricia Menges September 15, 2014 at 2:15 pm

    Every week I think you’ve outdone yourself. Then, I read the next week’s blog and it’s better yet. This one is the best so far. Perhaps I feel that way because “my older self” wishes desperately that my “younger self” had written a letter too. You probably have one more letter to write. It’s to your “Nana self”. Remind her that she gets to have a do-over with the grandkids and although she’ll still make many mistakes, this part of her life will be the most fun of all.

    • Heather Yoder September 23, 2014 at 9:00 pm

      Well mom, you are my greatest encourager now and always have been. And you were an amazing mom to me (even when I was completely undeserving — did I just say that?). Your Nana Self couldn’t be more perfect if you had an army trying. As for topping myself week to week, that really can’t happen for long. I’m just going to have to do what I hear the Lord saying and pray it touches the person He’s saying it for. =) Love you!!

  • Rachel September 15, 2014 at 3:39 pm

    this was so beautiful Heather. And I’ll say it again and again- YOU are a WONDERFUL mother, and your not-so-babies-anymore KNOW it 🙂 As for the judgmental looks from others…I’m just sad for them that they don’t have a Brenner to say prayers with, or a Sawyer to giggle with. Two VERY precious cargoes with equally precious parents <3

    • Heather Yoder September 23, 2014 at 9:03 pm

      Rachel (said in the high pitched voice only a 2 year old Brenner can do) – you are living proof of how hard this parenting stuff can be in this household. I learned from you, and I think it was supposed to be the other way around. Regardless, you left your stamp and it’s one I’m grateful to keep around for say, idk, FOREVER. I love you my sweet friend.

  • Erica September 15, 2014 at 9:15 pm

    I’m sitting in the carpool line reading this with tears welling up in my eyes! You have captured so much truth in your post. We have much to celebrate in this season with our children still close…and much to celebrate in the years to come as we watch them live lives that we’ve poured into courageously & filled with all the love we have! Thanks for this post. I have many friends with which I want to share it!

    • Heather Yoder September 23, 2014 at 9:06 pm

      Erica, I can see you sitting in that car pool line crying and it makes me want to get in the car and cry right with you. But I’ll settle for celebrating our job right along with you. And maybe we can lock them in the house so they simply have to stay with us longer. 45 years old sounds about right.

  • jtbellard September 17, 2014 at 10:38 am

    Ha! I was just telling Tegan & Jeff about that creepy mom/book THIS morning. Great post, my friend. My tear-filled eyes are off to shower while my itty-bitty sleeps. Love you 🙂

    • Heather Yoder September 23, 2014 at 9:08 pm

      Tara, you know what is funny? I had deleted that closing for fear that not enough people would understand it. Then, Sunday night of ALL the books Brenner could choose to read he brought me THAT one. And it’s certainly not a popular choice in this house. So I knew I had to put it back. Makes me laugh… And I hope your “itty-bitty” is resting well again. He’s such a sweetheart.