A day in the life of a mom
by Sara Sorrell
I have wanted to be a mother ever since I was a young girl, but one cannot read or discuss the topic of motherhood to adequately prepare for reality. Five years ago, my husband’s career had taken off in a new direction and we had moved away from family to a new state six weeks after the birth of our daughter, Ashlyn. I was often consoling my colicky infant, not only feeling like a prisoner in our house, but a stranger in a new land.
I had not discovered my surroundings considering it took two hours to prepare my three young children for a trip to the store—only for something to delay us. When I noticed we were running out of milk, I made the decision to attempt another trip to the store, hoping this time we would actually leave the house.
“Where we going, Mom?” my oldest son asked.
“To the store,” I answered while helping him tie his shoe. “I want you to be on your best behavior.”
“I need a drink,” my second son whined.
I gave him water, reminding him that every store has a restroom and to not forget to tell mommy when he needed it.
Rounds of restroom use, diaper changes and feedings later, I felt confident we were ready to leave the house. I smiled as I drove the family van, following directions my husband had written for me. “Everything’s going pretty well so far.”
At the store, the boys helped fill the cart while Ashlyn slept peacefully in her infant seat. I felt so proud of my children and tried to relax in the quiet shopping moment, but knew that my daughter was unpredictable. My heart raced as I marked each item off the shopping list.
With one last item to find in the store, Ashlyn stretched in her little seat and burst into loud crying. I had to choose between checking out our items with a screaming infant and finding a quiet place to feed her. I chose the latter.
“Where are we going now?” my concerned sons asked.
“Your sister is hungry, and I’m going to forget about finding that last item on my list,” I replied, making a bee line for a seating area near the back of the store.
The boys behaved badly while I was occupied with Ashlyn, and two store workers had to correct them. I felt like saying, “My boys don’t always act this way.” Instead, I made a mental note not to judge other mothers in the future.
We somehow managed to make it through the checkout lane and were in tears all the way home. Reality of life and motherhood had come crashing down around me, and I did not know where to turn. I made myself think rationally while bringing the children and groceries into the house, though all I desired was to lock myself in my bedroom (forever).
The chaos melted into peaceful contentment as the boys munched their afternoon snack, and my daughter dozed in my arms. “How is this?!” I pondered. “She was crying bloody murder just a few minutes ago.”
The house was a disaster when my husband arrived home from work, and I attempted to juggle my screaming infant and dinner preparation(s).
“I was praying for you today, Sara,” my husband said as he took Ashlyn from me. “How was your first day out?”
I dissolved into tears as I recounted the days' events, appreciative that he had been thinking and praying for me. I had taken one baby step at a time to get through the day, formulating “survival plans” in my mind. However, reality was that God was very near with moments of strength and rest (I just hadn't realized it).
I no longer have small children, but I continue to struggle through the daily challenges of motherhood. I tend to forget that God is in the midst of my reality holding moments of sufficient rest. May His Word daily remind me of His faithfulness and encourage me to hold fast to the assurance that He is in control.=================================
p.s. The photo above was taken in January 2005, right before we moved away from family to live in Illinois. Our children were ages 5, 3, and 6 wks. [going on 5 years ago, of course]