Tag Archives: My Big Jesus

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, my journey as a mother, pregnancy, women

A Letter to Myself Before I Became a Mother

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Dear innocent, young girl,

I want to write you, even though I know you’ll never see it. But maybe it will make us both feel better, and let us share a little of ourselves with each other. Oh, if you only knew what’s coming. I could tell you so many things, but you wouldn’t even want to hear them right now. It’s difficult to understand the lifestyle, the struggles, all of the feels that you will experience later. You might even have a chuckle or two (or hearty laugh, actually) at some of the things coming for you.

But in lieu of us having a little laugh at my (our) expense, I thought I’d give a piece or two of advice. You know, a friendly few suggestions to maybe try out before you get to where I am now: wading through a pile of children on my way to the bathroom in the morning, hearing shouts floating up the stairs before I’ve even heard my alarm (by the way, my alarm is a crying baby). Here are my three big pieces of advice:

1. Sleep late. I know you do already, or I wouldn’t know how much you’d miss it. But do it more often, as often as possible. And you know what else? Go to bed early. I know you’re a night owl and you love staying awake in the wee hours, but just try it out once or twice. You might find that you like it!

2. Travel. You don’t have any idea how cheap and easy it is to go places right now. It will be again, but not for a while. Get out there into the world beyond your town. Visit friends that live far away, go to different time zones while your body can spring back easily, get on an airplane without any tag-alongs (and I don’t mean Girl Scout cookies), eat fancy food, visit museums and see shows. You’ll find that each of these things is either more expensive, more difficult, or altogether impossible, at least for a little while. Travel enough now to save up some memories until your children are older and you’re not using your paycheck on diapers.

3. Sow seeds. This seems broad, but it can be specifically applied to three areas: your family, your friends, and your career. You will be busy when you’ve got little ones. And not any sort of busy that you’ve ever experienced. You won’t have much time to build new relationships, so sow good seeds into the family and friends you’ve got now. You want them to stick around during that time when you’re largely an unshowered, frazzled mess, alive solely because of coffee. They’ll be forgiving (and even helpful!) because you’ve spent years loving them well when you had the time and energy for it. Your career will thank you as well. Work hard and long while you don’t have those little ones who need you at home. You’ll build a base of trust and integrity, and likely receive grace later when you have a sick babe or preschool play to attend.

The last thing I’ll say, free and childless one, is when you do get ready for children, and you are expecting one of your own, don’t brush off what those mothers you meet will tell you. New mothers, old mothers, working mothers, stay-at-home mothers will all impart wisdom to you in their own way. Sometimes, you won’t know why they need to tell you those ridiculous things, or scare you with their labor stories, or be the hundredth woman to tell you, “Oh, just wait!” They’re all right; what they say will be true at some point during your mothering experience. You will be tired, you will get fed up, and you will feel the craziest, strongest, most permanently bonding love you’ve ever felt about anything. Open your heart to it, because it’s the best thing you’ll ever feel.

home, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, siblings

When My Family of Five Leaves the House (It Takes 60 Simple Steps)

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

Getting ready to go anywhere is a big job for my family. With three kids under four, including an infant, there is a long list of things we need to do before we go, and things we need to bring with us – no matter where we’re going. This is a little glimpse into the process of getting the family ready to go somewhere. Maybe you can relate! 

 1. Announce that it’s time to get ready to go. 

2. Ask threenager to get her clothes on. 

3. Snatch toddler up from running away, and take him to get his clothes on. 

4. As I’m walking away, ask Hubby to change baby’s diaper. 

5. Remind threenager to get dressed. 

6. Get toddler into clean diaper and clothes, amid shouts of protest and attempts to jump off the changing table. 

7. Suggest to threenager that she should dress appropriately for the weather (aka it’s cold, so no, she may not wear that sundress and sandals).

8. Ask threenager to stop wailing and please put on socks and shoes. 

9. Catch an escaping toddler, and cram his pudgy feet into socks and shoes. 

10. Succumb to toddlers request for boots instead. 

11. Let him put his boots on by himself. 

12. Calm him down when he gets frustrated at not being able to do it himself. 

13. Help him get his boots on. 

14. Ask threenager to please wear a jacket. 

15. Check to see if Hubby changed the baby’s diaper. 

16. Usher threenager and toddler of the door. 

17. Put threenager into car seat, because it’s better to have her locked in somewhere. 

18. Retrieve toddler from neighbor’s yard. 

19. Put toddler into car. 

20. Retrieve threenager’s doll she dropped in the floorboard. 

21. Retrieve toddler from driver’s seat. (He is fast.)

22. Put toddler into car seat, finally securing that he isn’t running away. 

23. Close the car door. 

24. Breathe. 

25. Listen for screaming inside the car. 

26. No screaming? Go inside and check on the status of Hubby and baby. 

27. Change baby from his brother’s pants to his own that fit him. 

28. Put baby into car seat. 

29. Take car-approved snacks to toddler and threenager, who are now screaming. 

30. Go back inside and fill sippy cups.

31. Make a bottle for the baby. 

32. Put in your own shoes. 

33. Grab your tube of mascara for when you’re stopped at a red light. 

34. Locate a bag (any bag) to put diapers, cups, and a bottle in. 

35. Go outside. 

36. Remember the wipes. 

37. Go inside to grab wipes.  

38. See your coffee cup, and grab it. 

39. Go outside. 

40. Remember you were grabbing wipes, not coffee. 

41. Go inside to grab wipes. 

42. See your baby’s favorite chew toy, and grab it. 

43. Put your hand on the doorknob, and remember the wipes. 

44. Grab wipes. 

45. Go outside. 

46. Realize that you haven’t seen Hubby in a while.

47. Go back inside to find Hubby in the bathroom. 

48. Go outside to wait on Hubby. 

49. Threenager has finished her snack and wants more. 

50. Since Hubby isn’t outside yet, go get more snack. 

51. See your purse by the door, and thank the Lord you had to go back to get it.

52. Grab the purse and the snack, and go back outside. 

53. Give the threenager more snack. 

54. Give the toddler more snack, because he is now angry that the threenager got more snack and he didn’t. 

55. See Hubby walk out the door. 

56. Praise Jesus that everyone is outside the house. 

57. Get in the car. 

58. Crank it up, and turn on some preemptive Taylor Swift. 

59. Pull out of the driveway. 

60. Hope for the best. 

So if you’re ever wondering why didn’t attend your event, or why I said we couldn’t go to a play date that was only for an hour… know you know why. I love you, but this is why. 

faith, music, My Big Jesus

Hear It Differently

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

Have you ever listened to a song you’ve heard a thousand times before (you know the ones: they’re on the radio, friends hum them while they work, and your kids even sing a phrase or two here and there), but one time when you’re listening, you think, “Wow! I’ve never paid attention to those words before! Has that always been the line?”

That happened to me this past Sunday. To be more specific, it happened to me several times. You see, I’m a worship leader. And the set that was planned for my service that morning was one full of trusty favorites. Several of them I’d been singing for years, one is a newer song I’ve sung at one service or another every week since Christmas, and the set also included one song I helped write (I wrote a bit about that here). But all of a sudden, these songs were falling on fresh ears. Thankfully, it wasn’t in a “forgot all the words” sort of way, but a “never thought about it that way before” sort of way.

For example, we sang Paul Baloche’s arrangement of the hymn “How Great Thou Art”. While it’s a hymn that I grew up singing, and I know almost every word by heart, for some reason, I heard the words anew. This verse: And when I think that God His Son not sparing/sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in/ that on the cross, my burden gladly bearing/He bled and died to take away my sin. I mean, that’s crazy! God sent His very Son to take our sins. Jesus gladly bore them for us on the cross, because he knew it would save us. Who wouldn’t sing about that?

Or in Hillsong’s “Oceans”, it was this part in the bridge: Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander/and my faith will be made stronger/in the presence of my Savior. Being in the presence of my Savior will be what strengthens my faith. I could have that reminder again and again, and it would convict me every time. Oh, you of little faith, enter into His presence, and that little faith will grow.

I have this same experience reading the Bible a lot. I’ll flip through pages, and read something I’ve read a hundred times before. But every time, I read it differently. Maybe it’s that my perspective has shifted, due to life circumstances. Maybe it’s that the Lord is showing me something new about a particular passage. Maybe it immediately leads me to think of a friend who needs to hear those exact words. Whatever it is, when I allow myself to be open to hearing something new, the Lord almost always gifts me that very thing: a new light shining through an old passage. Or through the music I think I know like the back of my hand: I notice a word or phrase that will change the entire song and how it speaks to my heart.

So here’s the hard part, the part it’s easy to talk about but not as easy to do. Get rid of those pre-conceived notions. Lose the filter through which you might be tempted to see. Open your eyes, your ears, your heart. Don’t be afraid of what you might hear; it might just be the thing that changes your mind.

faith, home, mommyhood, My Big Jesus

We’ve Got a Good Life

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!  

Sometimes, it’s easy to get lost in the day-to-day grind, where you’re cleaning something about 60% of the day, and preventing disaster the other 40%. It’s easy to say “no” more than you say “yes”, to forget what your hair looks like when it’s styled properly, and to pay more attention to how many bananas you have left than what your toddler is jabbering on about. But recently, I got a glimpse into our lives over the past few years a whole – the highlights – and I was more than pleased. 

Recently, Shutterfly ran a promotion through their app to order 250 free prints straight from Instagram, in the 4×4 square size. I’ve never uploaded any of my Instagram photos to my Shutterfly account, and since they were free prints, I decided to do it. (Nevermind that shipping ended up being enough to cover the cost of the prints, but I digress.) I didn’t pay much attention to which ones I chose, as long as they had people in them, preferably my kids, and weren’t all pictures of random food I’d eaten. Once I had chosen 250, I ordered them and basically forgot all about them until they arrived.

Once they got to my house, I decided I’d take down my Christmas cards (yes, I know that it’s February), displayed in the kitchen on the cabinets, and replace them with the pictures. I always have trouble taking down the cards, because the kitchen looks bare without them, so this seemed the perfect compromise. I knew I didn’t have room for 250, so I started to sift through them. I learned a few things:

  1. I have had Instagram basically since I had kids. There are pictures of all three of my beautiful babies, from the first moments of their lives.
  2. I use Instagram a lot. There are pictures of literally everything. Check ups at the doctor, first steps, weird faces, play dates, and sweet sleeping angels are all documented here in this one place.
  3. We have incredible family and friends. There were lots of pictures of my kids loving on my friends, grandparents smooching the kids and playing in the floor, and parties galore for every occasion, and n occasion at all.
  4. My kids have grown very quickly. I know this is normal, and that it will likely always be this way, but I can’t get over how a few short months ago, J’s face was mostly baby fat, D still slept 90% of the time (oh, how I miss that some days!) and EK was a mere fraction of herself in conversation and craziness. 

These photos, these sweet faces, happy times and hilarious memories, were the perfect reminder that what matter most isn’t the grind. It isn’t whether or not I forgot to replenish the yogurt supply, or if we watched the whole second season of Sofia the First in less than a week. It’s about the snuggles in the mornings, the prayers before bed, the silly somethings whispered in my ear, and the health (physical, emotional, and spiritual, even) of our children as we lead them through this life. The highlights aren’t necessarily an “accurate” representation of life as a whole, but they sure are the parts worth remembering. We’ve got a good life. 

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus

Motherhood Is a Battle

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus. 

As a mom, I am called to do a plethora of things. Not the least of these is to fight for my children. I fight for them to be treated fairly, given any and every opportunity, for their health, their happiness, and, if the need arises, their very lives. I am happy to fight those battles for them as long as I can. 

But sometimes, I feel like all I do is fight. I fight against the sink full of dishes or the endless loads of laundry. I fight veggies into mouths. I fight shoes onto feet. I fight urine and spit-up out of carpet and bedsheets. I fight the clock to finish dinner in time to bathe before bed. I fight for guilt-free alone time. I fight for quality time with one or two or even three, that isn’t taken up by “Stop that!” or “Don’t hit your sister!” Choose your battles, they’ve told me. Well, choosing my battles seems like a battle in itself. 

When I’ve fought battles all day, I’m weary of myself. I dislike who I’ve become after the stress of the day has worn me down. I need a break, or encouragement, or a big glass of wine. But what I try my hardest to do is focus on the One who can pull me up, out of the muck and the mire, and remind me who I am. He can drag me out of the pit – where sometimes you can find me wallowing – and restore me the my fuller self. He is the conqueror of things big and small. He has conquered death, so what battles of mine can He not win?

Jesus is a conqueror. In Him, I am also a conqueror. When I feel like I’m fighting a losing battle, He can win for me! He take take all the ugliness – the exhaustion, the anger the guilt, and the sadness in me – and weave them into a beautiful tapestry that tells the story of who I am, without being overpowered by those emotions. It can show those feelings, as well as the beauty – the joy, the love, the excitement, and the peace – that shows when He shines His light through me. He has already conquered, and will keep on conquering. I need only to be still.   

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, parenting fails

How do you think it looks? 

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 This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!


The other night, while the kids were taking their bath, I decided to give J’s and EK’s hair a little trim, mostly to make sure their bangs didn’t get into their eyes. They have endearingly shaggy cuts, and so I’d never want to jeopardize that. We had had some friends lingering after our dinner together, so after bath time, we fast-forwarded the bedtime routine, so we could get back to chatting with our friends. I was VERY surprised that EK didn’t make her way back up the stairs, as is her usual custom when we have friends over. (She likes to rejoin the party.) Their bedtime was a little late, so I attributed her absence to tiredness.

Around 11:00, when everyone had gone home and Hubby and I were getting ready for bed, I felt like I should go check once more and see if they were nestled in their beds. When Hubby and I got to the hallway where the kids’ rooms are, I saw EK’s light on underneath her door. When we got inside, we immediately saw little pieces of paper and ribbon from various bows that had all been cut into tiny pieces.

(I’ll take a moment to clarify that we don’t allow scissors without supervision. I’ll also clarify that I happened to leave those bangs-trimming scissors to dry on the bathroom counter, but up against the backsplash, and out of sight.)

Finding EK on the far side of her bed, working on a ribbon on her nightgown, I asked, “What are you doing, babe?” She looked up at me, and replied, “Just cutting stuff.” At this, I started to the see hair on the floor. I took the scissors and said, “Well you know that it’s not okay for you to use scissors without me or Daddy with you. And look at all the hair you’ve cut off!”

As she started to cry (mostly from being in trouble, I think), I looked at Hubby and said quietly, “That’s a lot of hair…” Turning back to a sniffling EK, I said, “You really cut a lot of hair. How do you think it looks?” And as the dam broke and she crumbled into a hot mess, she cried, “Great!” and succumbed to the sobbing. As tears filled my eyes, I told her the most important thing I could think to tell her: “If you think you look great, then so do I.”

You see, she’s not yet four years old. She is outwardly tough, but can be fragile in many ways. She is moldable, flexible, and absorbs every single thing she sees and hears. If I had dared tell her it didn’t look good, or that she did an awful job on her hair, well, it would’ve crushed her. It likely would’ve stuck out in her mind for a long while. Instead, the focus of the scold was on scissor safety and not the outcome of a self-done haircut. After all, it’ll grow. And it looks right cute with a headband in it. She’s still my adorable EK, and her hair just has a little extra spunk.

faith, holidays, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, random thoughts

Getting My Groove Back

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

This isn’t just a cutsie post about how I took a little while after the holidays to find my regularly scheduled rhythm. This is a post about how mid-winter, when the holiday rush is done, but spring has yet to begin, there is a slump. I don’t just mean in the school year (though as a former teacher, I know that is REAL) or the weather (also stupidly cold) but just in life in general. Coming down off a joyous season of celebration, family, friends, and the Lord’s goodness, I’m experiencing sadness – a bit of a Christmas hangover, if you will. 

I was chatting with a friend a few days ago about how much more difficult it is to put Christmas decorations away than it is to get them out. You’d think it would be the same amount of work, and it might actually be. But it’s much harder to put them away because you’re just packing away sparkly, festive happiness. I mean, who wouldn’t be a little bummed about that? Have lots of parties, listen to happy music, see everything shining and twinkling, and then all of a sudden, pack all the joy away and return to the dead of winter? Ugh. Hubby ended up putting away the last of our decorations, with the help of his mom, one day while I was out. I had gotten halfway done, and just… couldn’t finish. Boxes and packing paper were strewn about, the tree was mostly devoid of ornaments but not totally. It just felt sad every time I thought about getting everything packed away, and I’ll be totally honest… I’d been using the still-lit tree as a nightlight.

So naturally, I’ve been dragging myself, slowly but surely, out of said slump. I’ve been trying to jazz myself up by making some fun plans for the kids and I to enjoy. I’m trying to not feel as though the winter has already peaked. 

And then yesterday morning, a Sunday, when I got out of bed – at the 9th snooze – there was the most perfect distinct g of snow on the ground. My daughter – from window to window, with the excitement of a kid on Christmas morning. I had forgotten what a few snow flurries will do for a child. The joy was tangible. It spread from person to person, until everyone in the house was so excited, we had to ask whether church was canceled, in case we could go outside to play. The contagious excitement and healing laughter jerked me right out of my emotional recession and into a renewed inflation of joy.  

 What if the joy of the Lord could spread like that? Just a little, from person to person to person… brightening her day here and calming his fears there. What if you let the little things fill you up with unspeakable joy that others could witness in your very countenance? Let the childlike faith overcome you and your post-holiday slump, and keep the joy in your everyday life, mundane tasks, and passive interactions with others. How many lives could you change? How might you entertain angels unawares? How often would you welcome the stranger that might just be Jesus? 

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, parenting fails

It ain’t pretty. 

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus! 

The grump king was just mad he slept through dinner.
 Sometimes, a house full of kids ain’t pretty. It’s messy. It’s frustrating. It’s loud. It’s full of surprises, no matter how much you plan. It’s often a battle: you vs. them, you vs. laundry, you vs. the unknown smell, you vs. screen time, or you vs. the version of you you’d like to be. 

Sometimes, like the other night for me, things get really crazy. It’s one thing after another, and there’s no one to blame, not even yourself (because sometimes, if I’m honest, it’s my fault). But sometimes, there are so many factors and so many things involved, it’s just too crazy and we can’t get through it without finding a little humor. 

On Saturday, Hubby and I had loose plans to go get (apparently amazing) burgers with some friends about 30 minutes from home. Once we started making further plans, our friends didn’t feel like going that far, but still wanted to hang. So we changed location and time, but kept the date. As my fam got ready to go, this kid didn’t want shoes, that one didn’t want a jacket, and the youngest screamed from the moment he got into his car seat. I was on edge from the crying, and from the sheer effort it takes to get all of us out the door…and because I had really wanted that burger with the obscene amount of bacon and the fried egg on top that everyone had been raving about. So when we finally got into the car, I sorta… exploded. I may or may not have told Hubby I wanted to run away by myself. I may or may not have meant it right then. But then I shut up, and we drove to dinner. 

Halfway there, I realized I had forgotten to grab baby wipes. This, with three kids under four, is a big mistake. Hubby offered to stop at the grocery store and grab some, and I declined, mumbling about how napkins or wet paper towels would do, and how stupid I felt for the obvious fail at Mom 101. 

When we got to dinner, it was time for D to eat his oatmeal, so he sat in Hubby’s lap while I fed him. We made precious little mess, and I went as far as to congratulate myself for not getting covered in it. How dare I?! Because the next thing I knew, he had puked. And puked some more. After the third one, I had changed his bib three times, his pants once, and used every napkin at the table. So then, obviously, there was one more spit up. Then he just got fussy. And fussier. And fussier. No amount of swaying or bouncing, toys or funny faces was making him happy, so Hubby and I deduced that he must’ve emptied his belly and gotten hungry. Because why else would he still be all mad? Well, two sips into his bottle, he passed out. Hard. Ooooh! Tired! That was it. Well, Mr. Man likes to sleep on his belly, so in my lap, he started to turn, until he was awkwardly belly down, splayed across my body. I managed to maneuver him to a slightly less awkward position, but it’s still a little disconcerting trying to eat a salad and a wrap with a twenty pound baby across your lap.

When he fell asleep, it was almost like that was my older kids’ cue to lose it completely. EK decided sitting was for losers and she would stand on one leg, with one butt cheek on her chair. J decided shoes were only for people who had their feet on the floor, and promptly threw his boots off the high chair he was in, and spend the rest of his evening fighting to get out of it. Both were fairly covered in their dinners (spaghetti with meat sauce and fries with ketchup, because obviously tomato is the only vegetable, and it exists only to be used in sauces). This was the point where I really regretted not letting Hubby stop for wipes. There was red everywhere, and several people at our table had been spit up on. And as I looked around at the laughing faces of our friends, a sweet Hubby who had hopefully not held my bad mood against me, a round of empty beers, and happy (or sleeping) babes, I made a decision. I could sit there brooding about how things hadn’t gone my way, or I could decide to have a nice evening, despite the crazy. All in all, the sequence of events was so bad it was funny. And I decided to laugh. I decided to wage my war on unpreparedness and loud kids later. I was surrounded by my favorite people, and I shouldn’t be sulking.  I should be having fun. And y’all, I did. I enjoyed myself with spit up on my sleeve, a baby sprawled across my lap, and kids who ate ketchup for dinner. I chose to ignore the battle instead of fighting it, and no one is even worse for the wear. 

faith, holidays, mommyhood, My Big Jesus

Some Assembly Required

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

I had a lovely experience with Christmas this year. My two oldest kids are old enough to really appreciate more complicated toys and notice when things are a little different. I spent a few hours setting up for Christmas morning, and making sure everything looked “just so”. I even made my brother help me with the Lego village. 

So naturally, on the eve of my son’s birthday, only 3 days after Christmas, I abhorred the fact that I was already wrapping more boxes and assembling a birthday celebration. This feeling was even more pronounced since I had bought a special surprise for him months ago, that I imagined being the favorite birthday gift. 

A friend of mine had bought a teepee for her son, on sale and very nice. Online, it looked similar to a pop-up tent thing my daughter has (in the shape of a princess castle of course) that J loves, so I thought it would be the perfect compliment to that. The box arrived amid several other Christmas gifts, so I put the entire box away to open later when I prepared for his birthday. 

Tonight, when my kids got in bed, I began to look at the Christmas crazy left from the last few days of slowly dwindling house guests and overflowing bins and boxes of stuff. I’m supposed to host a birthday party tomorrow?! I don’t care how small it’s supposed to be, that’s a little bit of pressure. So naturally I run the vacuum half-heartedly and pick up miscellaneous items from new toy sets and one thousand little scraps of wrapping paper I had so carefully folded and sparingly taped. And then… I remember the teepee.

I retrieved the box from the garage, and got to work. I’ve got a few choice pictures of my progress…  

 When I took it out of the box, I was surprised to find wooden poles. What happened to that pop-up tent I ordered? Along with the poles there was treated canvas. Was this thing an actual tent?! Is he, at some point in the future, going to ask me to camp in this thing?!

So, I got to work, in the middle of the living room floor, glass of wine close by for moral support. The directions seemed simple: Twist poles together. Put poles into inserts in canvas. Tie poles and grommets in canvas together. Enjoy your tent. Easy! 

 Forty-five long minutes later, I call my mom upstairs to help me tie knots, and we stand back and look at our newest abode within an abode. I could probably curl up and sleep in this thing. J is gonna LOVE it. I had envisioned it in his room. I’ll probably still let him keep it there, but it’s gonna be tight.  

 Moral of the story? J will love it. And I would do anything for my son, especially on his birthday, that I think he will love. Even after a week of crazy has just happened, I will open my home to even more crazy, because he deserves to be celebrated. I love him for who he is, but also (mostly) because he is my sweet, beloved son. Will he remember his second birthday? Nope. Will his adult self remember an awesome, surprisingly durable, traffic cone-like teepee? Maybe not. But will he remember the love his mama put into everything that had to do with him? I sure hope so. 

If I can love my silly, sweet middle child so much, after only two years, that it brings tears to my eyes, how much more can my Father, creator of the cosmos and author of my destiny, love me? I may be sweet, I am definitely silly, and I often feel lost in the shuffle, but I always know that I have the deep, secure love of a Father who would do anything to make me whole. 

faith, home, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, women

Things a Mom Can Do When She Sleeps All Night

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This also appears on My Big Jesus!  

It’s no surprise that moms frequently don’t get enough sleep. If they aren’t woken by babies or kids or pets, they’re up worrying about why they haven’t been woken. But on the odd day that a mother wakes, all on her own, having rested fully the night before, she transforms into an amazing creature… a superhero of sorts. She can take on the world in a whole new way, and she’ll only need two cups of coffee to do it! Here are some things a well-rested mother might do if she sleeps the entire night:

1. She will wake up with her first alarm. She won’t even hit snooze. She’ll just stretch her arms wide, take a deep breath, and start her day with a smile.

2. She will cook herself a hot breakfast, and not share it with anyone. Frying eggs, brewing coffee, and toasting bread, all before her children wake up.

3. She will make pancakes, and not even be annoyed about it. Special breakfast will be no big deal, and the children will give her a cheer!

4. She will pack the children up for an outing before lunchtime. She is excited enough to hit the park AND the grocery store – in one fell swoop!

5. She will actually eat lunch! And I don’t just mean whatever her kids leave on their plates. She will fix herself a sandwich, alongside the children’s healthy meals she will patiently coax them to eat. 

6. She won’t turn on the TV. She doesn’t need background noise or distraction for the children. She is so energetic! She will become tickle monster or professional storyteller before the TV comes on.

7. She will plan a healthy and delicious dinner for her family. Since she went to the grocery store, the kitchen is her oyster as she minces garlic, chops peppers, sears steak and bakes cookies.

8. She will tackle bath time, pajama wielding, tooth brushing and story reading all in time for an early bedtime. She is fearless as she enters the witching hour fray. 

Why, oh why, can’t this well-rested woman be you? Because she’s mythical, of course – an idealized version of you when you get even six hours of sleep in a row. In other words, she is a very figment of our imaginations. Everyone knows that mothers don’t sleep!