Yesterday on Facebook I posted a link to a blog post called - Desperate Housewives–No Laughing Matter: Why Young Mothers Don’t Need God, They Need Help. It's excellent and I had tears in my eyes while reading it. Even though my blog is supposed to be 'Along the Way to becoming a Proverbs 31 woman' I know that I will NEVER come close to being her. And this post speaks to that directly... that in our culture we are so pressured to be on our own and be responsible for the children we have birthed (I'm not talking about the # of children, just that we had them). There is so little support and encouragement that we often feel very alone during the long days of being home with our babies.
This is such a brief section of her post but she could have been reading my inner thoughts exactly:
Once a woman with such a tender outlook on marriage and motherhood, of being a willing helpmate for a man and raising up precious babes, slowly over time, warping into an unrecognizable person, inside and out.
Crying. Weeping. Yelling. Throwing things. Coming closer to beating my children than I ever thought possible. Sitting on the couch completely numb. Looking out the window at the woman freely walking her dog outside, my heart lusting after the freedom, of being able to walk, of being able to leave the house without having to find shoes, pack a diaper bag, put on coats, buckle little people into carseats…
Years of living–no–not living–SURVIVING.
And then while conversing with dear friends on fb about this post I got distracted. About 45 minutes earlier my mom had come over to get something and I thought I heard Naomi wake up from her nap but never came downstairs so I assumed she had fallen back to sleep. As I was walking out to the garage to get dinner out of the freezer (don't judge), I heard something and immediately my stomach dropped. This child is like the ones you only read about.... seriously. I walk upstairs and find her on my dresser covered in lotion and Dr. Scholl's rough heel cream. c.o.v.e.r.e.d. her face, her hair, her clothes, my dresser, everything on my dresser. She immediately covers her face and starts crying. I didn't even have to say anything - there were no words. It was like looking at those pictures of kids who got into baby powder and decorate the room just pure disbelief.
Let me explain that she was locked in her room for her nap because we've had this issue before when she was supposed to be going to sleep, I thought once she was asleep I was safe to unlock the door. guess not. Again please don't judge... but locking her in her room keeps her safe after some of her prior escapades she's been on while she was supposed to be napping - I think she's part ninja. With having a two story house and two other children I can't exactly sit outside her room for 2 hours while she naps.
While I don't completely agree with her title - I think we still need God because some ok most days He's the only way I get through it. I think it needs to say that we need Godly women to help us, minister to us, guide and teach us.