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Mediocre

Because that would be me and if there’s one thing I need, it is hope.  Oh, how I need hope.

The online world is pretty one dimensional so in case you’ve never picked up on how dire my case is, allow me to take just a moment to give you the CliffNotes version of my mediocrity…

  • I’ve cooked 3 meals in the past two months.  Three.  Exactly three.
  • They weren’t great meals.  In my defense, I’ve been battling pregnancy sickness.
  • When filling out a form recently, I had to ask several of my children what grade they were in.
  • I’m not known for my exceptional skill as a laundress.  I’ll leave it at that.
  • I’ve never seen a real problem with cold cereal on occasion.  Even if that occasion spans the three meals of the day.
  • Dry cereal also works just fine in a pinch, if you ask me.  Just don’t ask my kids.
  • It is not humanly possible to keep my fridge stocked with milk.  It just isn’t.  Hence, the dry cereal.
  • Homeschooling sometimes looks an awful lot like, well, I dunno what it looks like.  I can tell you that sometimes it just ain’t purty.
  • I was always opposed to locking myself in the bathroom to cry.  Then I had kids.
  • I once told my toddler that a chocolate milkshake was my medicine.  I honestly didn’t feel too badly about it since I wasn’t lying.
  • My bedroom closet.  Um, yeah…next topic.
  • Yesterday I slept till 9.  My toddlers got up at 7:30.  I’m eternally grateful for teenagers who love me.
  • I had my first five children within 6 years.  I don’t remember much from those 6 years.
  • My husband adores me.  I always knew there was something a little off about that guy. ;)

Okay, I’m going to stop there.  You probably get the idea.  I’ve never been nominated for Mother of the Year.  In fact, I’m pretty sure one year I even saw someone glance my way and snicker as they were discussing nominees for the award.  Whatever.

But here’s the thing…I’ve grown.  The Lord saw fit to reach a loving hand out and make me able to prepare an edible casserole and serve it with homemade bread and a side of greens.  That, in and of itself, is a homemaking miracle considering I came into marriage not realizing food was actually prepared in a kitchen.  I grew up thinking you bought it frozen and just used that large room to heat it.  See how far I’ve come?  The kids may get excited when my teenage son is in the kitchen instead of me but his cinnamon rolls don’t hold a candle to mine, so there’s that.  I’m clinging to that, by the way.

I have days where I don’t want to get up.  Days where I don’t want to fill the many roles a mother must.  Times I feel I might need a sedative to deal with all the simultaneous Hey, mama, look at this!  and Watch me’s and Mama, I found a black widow. Can I keep it as a pet?

Yes, I have lots of those days.  But I get up and do it anyway.  I laugh with my kids and sometimes I cry with them.  We play and tease and romp and wrestle.  They fight for the seat next to me and each night finds my cheek covered in kisses, from the little ones all the way to my almost-men.

Because my beautiful children don’t realize I’m mediocre.  To them I am safety, security, a warm smile and unconditional love.  And that, my friends, is nothing short of exceptional….because God made it so while I was busy tallying up my flaws.

Flaws my children keep no record of.