Jumbled Thoughts on Motherhood

I grew up in the Hood River Valley, a tiny, somewhat isolated, beautiful valley in the Columbia River Gorge. The valley has the ideal conditions for growing fruit and produces 3% of the nations pears as well as tons of apples, cherries and some peaches. When the weather warms up each year the trees blossom and become seas of flowers. It is absolutely beautiful.

Occasionally, we would have a few weeks of warm weather suddenly followed by a return of winter weather. The blossoms would be frozen on the trees, unsure of what was going on in the mixed up seasons. Families would spend the cold nights lighting smudge pots that would burn and warm up the orchards trying to protect the harvest. We would wake up to a black sooty cloud over the valley. Those years would be fraught with worry - the bees could not pollinate in cold weather, the blossoms would break off. How much fruit would grow that season? Everyone in the valley depended on the fruit so the worry could be a tangible thing. All would work as hard as they could and prayers became a bit longer & much more earnest as we put the trees in the Lord's hands.

They say adoption is about love. Well, I have learned that for me, Motherhood is about time. Time to have morning devotional, time to eat a real meal together, time to work on a project together, time to talk, time to read together, time to wrestle & play, time to tuck-in bed & discuss the day, time to work together, time to create a home not a hotel, time to plan, time to sing, time to cook, time, time, and more time.

I have always wanted to a be a mother. My biggest worry in college was trying to figure out what to study if I didn't get to be a mom. I really didn't want to do anything else. Before I met Tim, I wanted to have 8 kids. I grew up the oldest of 6 (plus a few extras along the way) and I learned at a young age that kids are more important than stuff. When I met Tim, I knew his personality was more of a 3 or 4 kids kind of guy so I settled in with the idea of having a small (to me) family. When Ryan arrived, I was ecstatic to be in the mothering season of life. Over the years, I have had to work more than once. My heart ached, but I always felt like it was a temporary chill in my otherwise warm spring season.

Since the divorce, I feel like the fruit trees caught blossoming in an ice storm. I don't know what season I am in anymore and I feel stranded between mothering and working. I know how important this mothering season is and yet I feel so powerless as we go through this storm. At times, I feel like I am trying to breathe the choking soot from the smudge pots of necessity in my life right now. I am limited in what I can do and feel that the harvest truly is in the Lord's hands.

My mom was almost always home growing up. And dad, if I never said thank you, I am saying it now. Thank you! As a teen, we would all come home and tell her all about our day, good & bad. On the rare occasion that she wasn't home, we would go about our afternoon but when she did get home a bit latter, the moment to tell her about our day was past. My good friend Kim made me a sign this last Mother's Day that says "The Joy of Motherhood Comes in Moments." I believe that. Mothering is moments. Moments when your kids' hearts are open, moments of sharing, moments of teaching, moments of sharing. The season of motherhood is a collection of moments.

I have come to realize that my pre-teen (as he likes to be called) needs my time even more than he did as a toddler. Teens only share or listen when the mood strikes them and if you miss that moment, it is gone. Also, they can get into so much more trouble. There are four of us ladies at work that are mothers returning to the workforce this year. Last week we were discussing the stress our families are under and the balancing act we are trying to perform. One lady had received a call from a detective that week as her son had been contacted by an online predator. He is in 6th grade. We talked about the critical hours between 3 & 5 when our kids were without any supervision. My good friend Alisa picks Ryan up from school and drops him off to me everyday so that he is not home alone and so that I don't miss that moment with him. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

So, what am I trying to say? For me, mothering and working are two different seasons of life and trying to mix the two has left me confused, stressed, and the harvest in danger. Mothering is a full-time job for me, not until Ry is in school, but until he is gone on a mission. I child-proofed our home when he was a toddler, I now feel that I need to youth-proof our life to safely get him to adulthood.

So, what am I going to do? Right now, pray even harder that we can make it until May. I am starting to look for other jobs at the school, something that will not require my time 24/7. I will take a severe pay cut, but right now, my mothering time is priceless. If I don't make every effort, the harvest will be lost.