The following is written by a guest blogger. The opinions expressed here are those of the writer and do not reflect the opinions of Bob Lacey, Sheri Lynch or the Bob & Sheri show.
I woke up with only a few minutes to get dressed and be out the door.
Without time to shower, I attempted to force my hair into some kind of submission, and was nearly sweating by the end.
Someone could’ve written their thesis on it.
The entire time I looked in the mirror I made the face a person makes when they’re trying to tell if the milk went bad.
Not a great start to the day.
I did my Motherhood Makeover.
The key is one year old mascara that’s almost turned to powder and some barely there Carmex.
I headed in to get dressed.
When I opened my closet I thought I heard descending tuba notes.
I was just so tired of it all.
I pulled what is basically my only tank top out of the closet, and paired that 4 year old beaut with another in its peer group: my only pair of shorts that fit, and “fit” is a loose term.
I sighed, and wished it all instantly vaporized.
I avoided eye contact with myself in the bathroom mirror, feeling frustrated about my appearance,
but called it “good enough for today.”
I put on big hoops.
Big hoops often fix things.
Paige had been crying from the moment she woke up.
A background soundtrack that wasn’t making my own mood any lighter.
Complaining over this thing and that.
She couldn’t find shorts.
She didn’t want a dress.
She needed food.
Tessa pushed her.
The dog was standing on her shoes.
Her “day had been so hard,”
she wailed as she slumped against the wall.
“Your day has NOT been hard!” I called into the hallway mere moments after my own inward melt-down.
“It is just 9:30am. Do you know who is having a hard day?”
My head emerged from the bathroom, I’m sure looking a lot like Medusa’s.
I felt my neck expand and curl.
“Countless African children who have been orphaned and not only will not eat today, but have no water to drink, either!
Children surrounded by death and pestilence and disease! THEY are having a hard day!”
*Insert Mom Crazy-Eyes*
*Insert her gone completely silent*
*contemplate how much mileage has been gotten out of the African children comparison in 20 years of motherhood*
“Your attitude needs to change!
Do you understand me?”
She nodded.
She understood, she huffed,
but I did not yet get the parallels to her attitude then and my own.
I did not know I was about to receive my very own lesson in a hall.
We adults are sometimes slow to learn,
after all.
We speak loud words while we cover our ears.
The girls and I ran several errands after that.
I was hot and tired by the time we finally made it to Target, and I sent the girls to get us cold drinks while I went to use the restroom.
As I approached the door, an old woman exited, and for a brief moment we locked our gazes.
She appeared to be homeless;
Dirty and dressed in what looked like rags.
A clump of dried grass was stuck to her hat.
As I started to pass her, her weary eyes grew big, and she stopped and turned to watch as I passed.
“Wow!” She said quietly.
“You look SO beautiful!”
It took a moment to realize she was talking to me.
Me: Dressed in my own disappointment.
“Where did you get that shirt?” She continued.
I told her, and we spoke about it awhile.
The colors! The pattern! She loved that material!
I grew increasingly humbled to realize that what I had tagged as barely acceptable earlier was something deemed lovely, and even desired by someone else.
I went into the bathroom with tears in my eyes, and asked God to forgive this morning’s ungrateful heart.
Some people would give anything to have what we have, even when we feel like it’s little.
I have a single friend who once told me she loved coming to visit my crazy, loud family.
She said that she longed for the soothing chaos of it, and often thinks of it when she goes to bed alone in her still, silent house.
She told me this after I’d just felt a twinge of jealousy over the thought of being alone in a bed and waking to cook a meal for one.
This very morning, before starting this whole scene,
I opened up Facebook while still in my bed and had just begun to scroll, when
the second post down caught my eye.
It was photos of my friend’s newly bald head.
She was finally brave enough to announce publicly that she’s fighting breast cancer.
After many private messages, I knew that was so hard for her.
In my mind I saw her beautiful smile and her hopeful eyes and thought,
“I bet she would give anything to wrestle unruly bed-head.”
Our 4 year old only tank top might look like red carpet ware to someone who doesn’t have any, after all.
So today I chose to be thankful for the way that I looked, even with my too little makeup
and my far too many pounds.
Today I was thankful for a woman who stopped in a hall to remind me just what “grateful” means,
because it meant that
Today I made eye contact with my own reflection, and I reminded her that what she’s got is a thing of dreams.
Her own,
and many other people’s, too.
Mom Outnumbered
Hi! My name is Kerri Green; Wife to Justin, and mother to four highly entertaining daughters -Alena, Chloe, Tessa, and Paige. I am an artist, a writer, a daycare provider, a lover of people, a believer that there is humor and beauty in all things, and the author of Mom Outnumbered; a blog about real family life, and my observations of it. My goal is to make people laugh, to be there for them when they cry, and most importantly, to let them know that they are not at all alone in this up and down world. I live with my family in Sebastopol California, and I am opening the window into our life. So welcome! Come in. Sit down. Just please don’t mind the mysterious wet spots.
