The Messy Moms Club

I remember when I joined the club.

Even though I'd been working with children for over 6 years, I feel like I didn't truly join the Messy Moms Club until I was 22 years old. I'd been teaching preschool for a few months, and I'd just accepted my first nanny job. The girls were two years old and four months old. They were adorable, both with dark hair that matched mine. When we were out and about, people commonly mistaked them as my own kids.

I got to their home around 10:00 am to relieve the mom to go to her college classes. I took over easily like usual. I'd been taking care of children in some capacity since I was a young teenager. Watching children had always been fun for me. It was a big ol' piece of cake.

"You can take the girls to Chick-fil-a for lunch," the mom said as she handed me some money. "I need to go to the store today."

"Okay!" I readily agreed. Little did I know what was waiting for me.

I liked Chick-fil-a. I mean, the place had always been good to me. Good nuggets, good fries, good times. Who doesn't like it there?

Let me tell you who doesn't. A two-year-old who wants to sit outside when it's standing room only, that's who.

There we were in line. I had everything together. I was carrying a very heavy sleeping four-month-old in her car seat (trust me, this baby was a chunk!), a diaper bag, my purse, my phone, several hair bows, a bottle, a coloring book, a doll, at least seven stuffed animals - everything but the staff of Moses, basically - AND holding the two-year-old's hand. I was feeling pretty great, honestly! If I could handle all of that, I was invincible!

Reality check: I was not invincible. It was a gorgeous day outside, which meant that the outdoor Chick-fil-a playground was extremely crowded. Actually, the whole place was crowded. I went to that Chick-fil-a countless times while we lived in that town, and it was always crowded, without exception. Even at times like 3:00 pm on a Monday, there would hardly be any tables available. So at 12:00 pm on a Friday, I'm sure you can imagine.

We were in line and I saw a table open up close to us, so I decided to grab it. I put the diaper bag down to save the space.

I felt a little tap on my leg.

"Miss Rachael?" My eyes moved from the diaper bag down to Madilyn's big, bright blue, pleading eyes. Tears were creeping in the corners. "I thought we were going to sit outside?" Her voice was trembling.

"Pumpkin, there's no room outside. We'll eat inside, but we'll go out and play right after! We can stay as long as you want."

Her voice went from innocent kitten to tortured cat in no more than 5 seconds.

"WAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!" She screamed, at the top of her teeny two-year-old lungs. "BUT - I - WANT - TO - SIT - OU-OU-OUTSIDE!" She choked out between her screams.

All 100 eyeballs in the restaurant immediately focused on me. I could feel every person thinking, "How are you going to make your screeching child be quiet?" As if that wasn't enough, the four-month-old also decided to wake up and start crying.

That was it. That was the moment I became a member of the club.

I bent down and told Madilyn that sitting outside wasn't an option and that I was sorry she felt sad. I told her that we could either eat inside or leave. It took a good 10 minutes to get her to calm down, which felt like 10 hours. I suffered through ordering while Madi was still sobbing by my side and while I was rocking Brooke (the four-month-old) at the same time. I could feel the girl taking our order thinking, "When are you going to get those kids to shut up?"

The end of the story is that Madilyn decided eating inside was acceptable and Brooke stopped crying. After, we played on the outside playground, and I proceeded to call my mother and apologized for every tantrum I ever threw in public.

Even though I'd been taking care of children in some capacity for over six years, that was the day I joined the club. For the first time, I actually knew what it felt like to be a mother.

I’m sure some of you are thinking: “You haven't birthed a child. You can't be a member.” It’s true, I’m not a mother. Yet. I can’t give you advice on morning sickness or swollen feet or growing a human inside of you. However, I have cared for more children than I can begin to count. Not only have I taught children everything from letters to swimming to sign language to writing skills, I have nannied for two wonderful families of girls over the past four years. I've done countless overnights, washed their clothes, their hair, their toys, and taken them to the doctor, the aquarium, the park, the zoo. I loved these girls like they were my own.

      

I promise I have been there. I've watched while a two-year-old decides that week-old popcorn off the ground at the zoo is an acceptable snack. I’ve been standing there while a three-year-old sobs her heart out while she sits through her time out, a.k.a. “prison sentence” because she screamed at me one time too many. I’ve been there when the 6-month-old finally gets to sleep and have ducked under the crib so she won't wake up when I leave the room, and, of course, have fallen asleep right there on the floor myself. I've heard the words, "I don't like you anymore!" and "You can't tell me what to do!" and many variations of the same thoughts. I've also heard "I love you," and gotten kisses from lips covered in popsicle remains and too much chapstick. I’ve been puked on, pooped on, colored on, peed on, juiced on, snotted on, and jumped on like a trampoline. I realize the children haven't really been mine, but I've loved them like they are. I can say with confidence, I really do understand what it feels like to be a mom. I have been there. 

It's awesome. It's hard. It's wonderful. It's a MESS. In the best way possible.

So, how about you all? When did you realize how messy being a mom is? 

I'd absolutely love to hear your stories! Hopefully, this can be a place for you to come and read, laugh, vent, and get some advice. I'd love to hear your advice, too!

Remember that parenting is an awesome journey that Jesus has you on. Even when things are messy, you can trust, laugh, and cry with him. Take everything to him first and the rest will fall into place.

"She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future" (Proverbs 31:25, NLT).