Monday, March 10, 2014


Philippians 3:14
I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus

If you are female, surely you have seen the wonderful movie "Cinderella". If not then, I'm sorry and I'll let you borrow mine! Anyway, I think that if you are a wife or mother you can obviously identify with Cinderella feeling like slave in her own home, unappreciated and pulled in 500 directions. Never getting a "thank you" or even an acknowledgment from the people she loved most, her family. While yes Cinderella actually WAS a slave in her own home (and her family was retched and not so attractive), sometimes as women trying to wear 500 hats, we feel that way too right? Minus the unattractive family part. 

There is a song in the movie that the mice are singing as Cinderella is running around the house trying to do all the things being demanded of her at once. When I looked up the lyrics I had to laugh, its called "The work song". Here are the lyrics:

"Cinderella, Cinderella
All I hear is Cinderella, from the moment I get up
till shades of night are falling
There isn't any letup, I hear them calling, calling
"Go up and do the attic and go down and do the cellar,
you can do them both together Cinderella."
How lovely it would be
if I could live in my fantasy
But in the middle of my dreaming
they're screaming
at me

Remember that song? One sister is literally throwing laundry at her while the other sister is yelling for her "to come here NOW!"

Tonight I was trying to pick up around the house after I got home from taking my daughter to dance and going back to pick her up. I had no time to cook dinner so....frozen pizza it was. I was putting laundry away while my 2 year old hung on my leg "mommy I need my cup!" Then I hear my husband, "did you get that pizza out of the oven?" ummm, no I didn't but I do smell it burning. My 7 year old says "why can't you puh lease pour my cereal, I am for REAL starving. I feel sick I'm sooooo hungry!" So I head back to the kitchen to tend to my starving 7 year old who is fully capable of getting herself a snack, on the way I trip over her boots. The boots that I asked her at least 5 times to pick up. I know this is just an average night in most homes, but tonight I realized something. As I tried to do everything to everyone's liking (in a very non-joyful, lots of sighing manner) I realized that they have no idea that I feel like they are being ungrateful. They are not intending to pull me in 599 directions, its really very simple. I am his wife and I am their mommy. Those two titles should be held above my degree in Nursing, and above my sudden need to disappear into the bathroom and lock the door. I would know. Just 4 short years ago both of those names "mom" and "wife" were taken from me. 

I didn't know if I would ever be those things again. I went from being mom of two beautiful children and a wife juggling nursing school,  to being none of those things the instant Jackson left this world. I was not able to be a wife because I did not know how to function when I was stripped of my title of mom of "two". I was not a nursing student anymore because the day after Jackson went to heaven was my graduation day. When Jackson went to heaven at only 5 years old, part of me died. That mom of "two" died and the wife juggling kids and school died.
I am happy to say that she remains gone. When This wife and This mom stood back up, I was new. I vowed to never take life for granted. I promised my son that his name would always be on my lips but that I would live. Its never easy and there are days I just can't, I just can't do anything and that's okay too. Most days though I chose to live for Jackson and I chose to live for this crazy family God has given me. That choice made me who I am today. I am "wife to a wonderful man and mom to THREE beautiful children". While the path God chose for me to walk is obviously not the path I would choose, its mine and only I can walk it with Jesus by my side. I will continue to pray that God reminds me that being Cinderella (minus the actual slave part) in my own home is a privilege. Those responsibilities come with the job. I will continue to sigh and roll my eyes when everyone is pulling on me, but I will always remember what life could be if I had made that choice to not get back up and keep breathing. Excuse me now, I am exhausted and rocking my momerella name tag proudly. Gotta go finish those dishes :)