This One’s for You, Gramercy Mom!

It’s Saturday morning, August 26th, 7:46 am and I am sitting on my screen porch with a cat, drinking coffee, listening the the sounds of morning. I am clinging to the remnants of a summer I feel slipping away and feel slightly nauseated by the fact that in two days 7:46 am will mean I am already late to everything.  I have one child asleep on the sofa, one asleep in a bean bag chair, one asleep at the foot of my bed and I think I’m missing one and I am wondering how in the world I am going to get everyone back on a 9-6 sleeping schedule by Monday.  It’s been three months of glorious anarchy and though I suppose I am ready for some semblance of a schedule, I feel the pressure closing in.  For the next nine months, the closest thing to a vacation I will get is a break from packing four lunches due to a half-day of school.  My children are getting older and there are four of them, so I have long since surrendered the hope that this will be the year when I finally get it all right.  There’s no chance.

In fact, there will likely be days when my kids eat leftover fish for breakfast, two Pop Tarts for lunch, and my boys will have to spray their soccer uniforms with Febreeze because I simply forgot to wash them.  My daughter will no doubt show up in a pair of Madonna socks I didn’t even know she owned and it will most assuredly be the day when her whole class is singing in Chapel.  I will forget to feed my dog.  I will drink too much caffeine.  I will be at Walmart at midnight because I forgot to buy printer ink.  And I will once again try to convince myself that fast food really isn’t all THAT bad. Taco Tuesday… Taco Bell Tuesday… close enough.  I literally feel my failure coming.

And it’s not from lack of effort.  I really want to be the mom I intended to be when I brought these guys home from the hospital in ironed linen onesies, sucking on sanitized pacifiers, staying up all night to scrapbook their every adorable move, but there just isn’t time.  I’m just too old.  And for some reason, I’m just too exhausted. Please tell me I am not alone.

As I sit on my porch this morning trying to keep the pressure at bay, I am thinking about all the Gramercy moms who will drop your children on our front door steps Monday morning and I would be willing to bet good money that at least some of you are feeling the same.  Here is what I want you to know.  We get you.  We understand.  We are feeling your pain, the pain that springs from a desire to be better and stronger and smarter and godlier and more patient, more loving, more organized, more diligent and more faithful than one woman can be.  In fact, I am hoping beyond hope that the Proverbs 31 woman is really more of a suggestion than an actual standard or I’m in big trouble.

But know this Gramercy mom as you ponder the coming school year:  We are not judging you!  In fact, we ADMIRE you.  We HONOR you. We think you are doing an amazing job of raising amazing kids in a tough world with a ton of work. We know it’s hard and we are here to help.  And maybe, just maybe, if we lock arms and drag each other up off the floor and cheer one another on, we can make it to May and all celebrate together!  And if your daughter shows up in a pair of Metallica leggings or your son smells like a strange combination of Old Spice and old shoes, we will let it slide.  We will keep the main thing, the main thing and we will “press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called us heavenward in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:14).

Today is Saturday, August 26th. Enjoy your day.  Drink a cup of good coffee.  Sit in your favorite chair.  Read your book.  Get a pedicure.  Have lunch with a friend.  Soak up these last days of summer and do not fret.  Monday has trouble enough of its own and we will all get through it together.