i saw a link for her on this site the other day, but didn’t pay much attention – unfortunately.  and then when i went to Notes From The Trenches today i thought, “wait a second… i’ve heard of her before.”  and i was floored by heather and by chris.  and by boomama  so, please read up on her.  and on notes from the trenches.  and pray for them all.  and for God’s glory to be shown through this.  and give a little.  i think these mamas are amazing.  and isn’t that why we blog?  to support one another on this crazy little planet?

i feel a raging against the machine coming – prepare yourselves. 

i have been thinking this for a while and i think i need to include more of this in my site.  i feel like our society completely glorifies having and raising children.  and i am as guilty of this as the next person at times.  but this is actually why i blog.  to try to reach people who are struggling.  struggling with reality.  the reality that kids are amazing and beautiful and fun and funny and hard as you know what to live with and raise.  and people who’ve been there know this.  that’s why i get told every time i’m at walmart that i have my hands full.  it’s why there are children on the news.  but it seems that the only views you get are the news segments and the other moms at church that have it all together and their beautifully perfect babies.  but where is the in-between?  where is the commentary on real life?  it’s in places like “notes from the trenches”. that’s why she’s so popular and unpopular at the same time.  she said it was worth having all those babies and so close together.  and found the humor in it.  and then shared it with the rest of us.  and it resonates.  and we say, if only to ourselves when no one’s looking, “yeah, i feel that way too.”  and then get up from our computers feeling like we are understood and not alone in these struggles and walk in to pick up our screaming babies that we don’t always like in the middle of the sleepless night and put them in their frilliest clothes and put on our shiny happy faces and go out to smile at the world and pretend we have no worries.  and isolate ourselves and everybody else further by saying, “isn’t it wonderful?  aren’t they perfect?  what do you mean you’re struggling?  oh, look at the time, i must go feed my perfect baby in my perfect house.  buh-bye now.”  why?  why do we do it?  because we want people to think we are not failures.  and, possibly closer to home, we don’t want to admit to ourselves that we might not actually like our children all the time.  hold on to your hats, because it needs to be said.  that there are times that we look at our children and think, “i remember before children when i could (fill in the blank) so easily.”  “i don’t like this child.”  “i don’t like who i am as a mother.”  “this is not what i signed up for.”  and so we smile.  and we lie.  to ourselves.  and to the teary-eyed others that look too much like our mirrors.  please get real.  it’s one thing to be a little black rain cloud and quite another to be paul who said, “yeah, i’ve got a new spirit within me and i’m a new man because of Christ, and amazingly i’m still the old man that has to fight his own thoughts.”  and interestingly enough God thought this line of mental struggling so important that it should be included in a place that would show paul as not this perfect giant of faith.  why?  not just for paul’s own catharsis, but for us.  do the same.  if you recognize yourself in this, let somebody know.  be there the next time somebody lets you glimpse their soul.  and further, reach out to somebody else the next time you don’t like your own thoughts.  and if you’re rebuffed be strong enough to keep reaching out until you find somebody real enough to say, “man, i’ve been there.”  and maybe we’ll find out why they say it takes a village.  and just maybe we’ll wake up tomorrow a little less lonely.