You are in the trenches. I am in there with you.
I know the trenches can get tiring. We feel like we are often fighting alone- and fighting a losing battle. There are often times we feel alone.
The trenches can be dirty. From spit up and dirty diapers, to mud trekked in from outside, and words that come from teenage mouths without thought -the trenches are dirty. Yet, under every dirty face and sticky hands is a little person who we are helping to form and mold into a responsible big person. You might feel like you are alone and covered in dirt- but let those sticky hands wrap around you and feel the tight squeeze, with a sticky peck on the cheek and hear the precious words that make you march forward, “I love you mama.”
Yes Mama, we are in the trenches. But the we are only in them for a short time.
For before we know it that freckled face girl will look at you and you will see a grown girl. Her curls and giggle will be traded for straight hair and boots. She will be able to hold a conversation with you about real things. You will leave the conversation and wonder when she became a woman.
Your snuggle boy will trade time in your lap for time under the car with dad. He will trade holding your hand for not wanting to talk about girls- to his cheeks get rosey red when the pretty one walks in.
That little girl- the one that used to have the chubby cakes? She is starting to look more and more like big sister every day (and sound like her too).
We have to be careful – because if we blink too many times, they are quickly gone
So, what do we do in the trenches? If we look to our left, and to our right, if we reach our hands out- we can find other moms in the trenches too. Her battle, and her sweet ones, don’t look like yours. The battle plan is different for her. You might be in the battle to homeschool – she might be sending hers to the battlefield of the school system. You might be breast feeding, and she might be wishing she could. You might be rocking the new born – and she may be watching her teenager drive off in the car for the first time. Yes, it looks different for all of us.
But it is the same. We all love, we all feel lonely, and we are all dirty from crawling in the trenches.
So Mama, reach out your hand, and find those warrior Mamas that you can lock shields with. Lock them – tight. And then, rejoice in your differences – and your similarities. But battle together.
You are in the trenches, and I am right there with you,