Imperfect Catholic Mama

Several years ago, I’d spent a month living the Carmelite Monastic life. It was a wonderful opportunity to discern that path for my life.

During my time there we read, reflected, talked, and of course, prayed about our vocations. A reoccurring theme was picking up our cross and following Christ.

If my vocation was to be a cross, then I was certain that I was called to be a Carmelite, cloistered nun. I struggled with this that entire month, feeling there would be no better cross for me to pick up.

When the month came to an end I met with a priest. What he said to me changed the course of my life (thankfully) and is something I’ve never forgotten. He said:

“The Holy Spirit guides us through our desires.”

Thankfully, I realized then and there that I was not called to be a Carmelite. It is a beautiful life and there is nothing wrong with it, but it was not for me. I could have lived that life, but it would have been like that month had been. Completely lacking in joy and a struggle every day.

Marriage is my vocation.

And motherhood along with that. I have no doubt about that for two reasons.

1. It’s hard. Everyday there are struggles.

• Monday: Trying to be patient with a 15 month old, as she screams and stomps her feet.
• Tuesday: Putting the upended household aside because my child needs me more.
• Wednesday: Being loving and accepting of all her emotions. Her joy and her anger.
• Thursday: Comparing my skills to other women. Am I good at anything besides making and feeding babies?
• Friday: Feeling like a financial burden to my husband as a stay at home, non-working, mom.
• Saturday: Feeling like I’m not enough and falling into the “just a mom” box.

Being a spouse and parent is not easy. But, I know this is my calling for a second, and equally important, reason.

2. Joy!

My days may be filled with struggles, but I knew this going into it. I’d heard from many mothers that being a mom would be hard. That being married was hard. And I am grateful that I did not come into this thinking it would be a breeze.

However, something I’d never heard from other moms and was not prepared for in the least was the joy that would be a part of my life.

True, the joys are sometimes less present then the difficulties. Some days are full of struggles and little-to-no joy, but there are days that give you little moments of unrequested, unexpected, gratuitous joy!

• Monday: Watching my child climb up to the slide and turn around and slide down on her tummy. Smiles and giggles once she’s safe at the bottom. And going again.
• Tuesday: How she has a “societal laugh.” Her little “ha. Ha-ha” when everyone around her is laughing!
• Wednesday: Seeing her put all the potatoes in the toaster oven. I’m pretty sure she’s making herself waffle fries.
• Thursday: Seeing her read to herself. She’ll flip through the book and talk to herself. Even going “grrr’ at the page with the lion.
• Friday: Hearing her squeal of excitement and delight when she spots a dog on our walks. Sometimes several blocks away and often before I even notice.
• Saturday: Waking up to her smiles in the morning and listening to all the things she already has to say.

I had expected struggles. And I am grateful for them. They are there to challenge me to grow. Do I sometimes miss those opportunities? Yes. But I can always rest assured that there will be another opportunity to grow in virtue.

I had not expected the joy. And the joy makes the struggles worth it all.

Am I still excited when my daughter is put down for the night and I am looking ahead to an empty, quiet evening to myself, or some time with my spouse? Absolutely!

Do I still struggle to have patience with my daughter and accept her big, hard emotions? No doubt about it.

Are some days just really, really hard and I’m crying on the floor with my baby as I count down the minutes till my husband gets home from work, wondering how the heck I’m suppose to do it all? Yep.

My joy as a mother does not negate the struggles. Most of the time it doesn’t even make them easier in the moment. I don’t find it helpful to think of her giggles as she’s screaming and kicking.

But when she is giggling it is easier to recall those moments of hardship and know they are not all there is to parenting. It’s not one big sludge through the mud. There are moments of laying in the wildflowers, and moments of slipping in the mud and clambering over the boulder field.

I want to remember the wildflowers and the boulder fields in forty years. The moments of struggle that invited my child and I to grow and develop our relationship, and the moments of joy which invited us to be present to one another and develop our relationship.

My life is not easy. No one’s is. It’s not expected to be. But my life is full of joy. Which I had not expected it to be.