Maybe some of you mamas have one of those toy kitchens at your house. Several different companies make them, but the basic premise is the same: plastic kitchen, complete with plastic dishes, utensils, and foods. This toy has always been a hit at our house. Each child has played with it for years at a time; it’s one of the few toys that seems to take awhile to outgrow, which is great. The kitchen is also extraordinarily durable. It has survived multiple moves and multiple kids, and is still in great shape! My only complaint about the toy kitchen is this: the plastic foods have a way of migrating through the house literally ON. THEIR. OWN. I don’t know how this happens. Maybe it happens at night while we’re sleeping. Maybe the wind blows through the playroom. But I find new foods laying around, even when no children are even home. Always have.
It’s a losing battle, really. And while it’s an insignificant battle in the grand scheme of parenthood, sometimes those are the battles symbolizing something bigger. I spent a solid eight weeks last year with a toy plastic lime on my kitchen floor. Now, before you think I’m a complete lunatic, a little background. The lime had somehow traveled into the kitchen and wedged itself under the kitchen cabinets. It wasn’t really in anybody’s way, and was wedged in enough that it was an unlikely target for our dogs to chew on. For the first several days, I noticed it and told myself every day that I would pick it up later. Or maybe tomorrow. That ambition evolved into thinking that the kids would pick it up eventually. From there, I digressed to hoping that the dogs actually WOULD chew it up.
Finally, I began to despise that plastic lime. I realized that it was a symbol of how completely overwhelmed I was; it was a symbol of all of my failure. That lime took on a persona of its own and taunted me each time I passed it. It reminded me of all the things that I wasn’t doing well enough: not a good enough mama, not a good enough wife, and possibly the worst housekeeper ever. I was exhausted, in every sense of the word. For eight weeks, I was too exhausted to pick a toy off the floor! At the time, our family was adjusting to having an infant again. I often felt like a single, stay-at-home parent, due to my husband’s work and personal commitments. And life was throwing more curveballs than I could catch.
“Let’s face it, I can’t catch curveballs at all. I’m more of a wiffle ball sort of girl.”
I had given up, literally and figuratively. Intentional parenting was out the window. Survival parenting was in. Our kids were fed, bathed, clothed, and loved. That was enough, right? I was getting by. I couldn’t even remember what I enjoyed doing for myself, much less actually partaking in self-care. Socializing or getting involved in the community? HA! The world is a cold, dark place anyway.
But guess what? It’s not called giving up when you stand back up again. It’s called resting. Mama, it is ok to just survive for a little while. That is NOT giving up. And you WILL stand up again. I’ve been watching our 14-month-old learn to walk over the past couple of months. At first, he was so excited about his new skill. There was joy all over his face. Then he realized that walking is actually pretty challenging when you’re chubby and you’ve never done it before. So he went back to crawling. After a short break, he started taking more steps. Then more steps. Now he doesn’t crawl at all. He falls a lot, but he is so proud of himself.
Sometimes mamas need that break too. Sometimes you will go back to crawling before you really take off. Maybe you’re adjusting to a new baby. Or adjusting to any other massive change in your family life. Maybe you’re in a time of health crisis, or of financial uncertainty. Maybe right now you’re just trying to get to bedtime each day. I know that the messages you hear most often tell you that your babies are growing up fast, and to enjoy every minute. Our babies are growing up fast. But while our babies grow up, the world keeps spinning. And since you can’t always control what spins your way, sometimes there is a plastic lime on your floor for two months. Don’t berate yourself for that. Breathe deep. Call in reinforcements. And when you’re ready, stand back up. Pick up the lime. Show those toys who is boss.
