I am attempting to brown beef for dinner, but a three year old is yelling for me to come wipe his bottom. At least he went in the potty this time, I think. On the way to the bathroom I side step around an abandoned craft station, complete with a bottle of glue on the floor. I make a mental note to ask the first grader to put away his paper craft project. As I bend to wad up toilet paper, screams erupt in the bedroom. Sounds like the oldest is pestering his sister—or is it the other way around?
Littlest squeezes back into dinosaur undies and races off to join whatever hullabaloo is taking place without him. I peek into the bedroom and remember that I must wash sheets from last night’s accident. Someone runs to me, wailing about her tragic mistreatment by a sibling. I settle the squabble and shuffle back to the kitchen with one on my hip, aware that the dangling lanky legs now brush my knees as I walk. Back at the stove, I step on one foot at a time to brush off dried rice from my toes as four voices chorus for snacks behind me.
Motherhood
Motherhood is a constant juggling of priorities. Running a home and raising young hearts require a moment-by-moment evaluation of what is immediately crucial. Even after the Paramount Priority is set, it can change in a moment, displaced by a leaking blowout, bleeding finger or a question about eternity from a curious seven-year-old.
My motto for this season gives me clarity in the chaos: Do what you can, when you can. Let go of the rest.
A young mama’s day often feels like a frenzied game of Simon Says: Get everyone dressed! Feed the little people! Clean the floor! Untangle the rope! Change a diaper! Offer a snack! Read a book! Pack for swimming lessons! Pull chicken out of the freezer to thaw! Sweep the floor! Go on a walk! Potty break! At the end of the day (if we aren’t too exhausted to surrender to sleep immediately) our minds replay regrets, wondering how we could have done better, been more effective, spoken kinder. Tasks still on the to-do list taunt us. I can stop the nightly low-light reel in my head by reminding myself that I did what I could, when I could, with what I had in the moment.
I can let go of the rest.
In the Moment
I gave the day my best effort. My motto takes the sting out of the evening replay because I can rest knowing that I made decisions for what needed to be done in the moment. I might not have gotten around to folding the laundry, but I was faithful to do the immediate work of caring for and connecting with my children and getting through the day’s basics.
When they are grown, my children will remember if I responded to them with kindness or curt impatience, not if the laundry was ever folded. My top priority is nurturing their bodies and souls. But then again, we can’t sit and read books all day—the lentils won’t jump into the crock pot by themselves. I remember that I can’t do it all well, but I will do what I can, when I can.
We all know how fleeting the moments are. Time slips past us no matter how tightly we hold our babies. In the midst of the swirling chaos of needs and tasks to complete, years tick by. Our minds will have more peace if we remember that we did what we could, when we could, and let go of the rest.
Tell me how you keep focused in the midst of all the demands of motherhood. What does doing “what you can, when you can” look like for you?
Evelyn joyfully mothers and home educates her four children. When all is quiet she blogs about encouraging women to uncover their best with less at Smallish.
