And Yet…I Will Not Wish Away Today

When I was in high school, I remember feeling sad that I wasn’t elected to the homecoming court. The disappointment itself was bad enough, but then followed a swift, personal berating over the fact I had even let myself care about something as frivolous as the homecoming court in the first place.

This pattern has played itself out again and again in my life. Disappointment leads to sadness, sadness gives way to anger, and anger prompts a self-lecture that pulls me out of the difficulties of “here and now” and shifts my focus to “the bigger picture”. I guess, in many ways, it was a good way to grow up. I probably saved my parents many a lecture as I was so busy lecturing myself. But more importantly, through my struggles I discovered what really matters in life.

I’m here again–feeling distraught and a little grumpy, and knowing I need to give myself a lecture. And so I shall. Care to join me? (Don’t worry, it ends well.)

I don’t doubt my priorities are where they ought to be. Playing games on Saturday afternoon is important. Assisting in wooden battleship assembly, listening to Henry read Hop on Pop for the fifty-seventh time, teaching Lucy how to braid, and letting her practice on my hair again and again are all moments that are real, good, and necessary. I know this. I know this in the very deepest part of my mothering heart. And yet…

And yet, as I lay in my darkened bedroom tonight (at an hour far earlier than normal so my body can work on building a little person), I long for a little more time to write. There are so many things I want to say, so many stories I want to tell.

I learned a few weeks ago that a handful of my essays were accepted for publication in a forthcoming book discussing the power of motherhood. This book is a Power of Moms project–yet another avenue for uplifting and inspiring material. I am honored to be included among their book’s contributing authors.

After recently completing a class on writing Creative Nonfiction, my professor provided some encouraging and positive feedback on my final portfolio. That, combined with my Power of Moms acceptance, had me seriously considering a nonfiction book project of my own. So, I pitched an idea to an editor. Know what she said? (In a friendly and supportive, but I’m not making any promises–though I think it could work sort of way?) She said, “Write it.” And I did.

I’ve just signed and returned the contract for my first novel, and I’m working on the writing of novel #2. My brain is full of ideas for a third, fourth, even fifth novel that come to me at random times throughout the day–in the car, in the shower, in the middle of Lucy’s basketball practice. I feel as if I am on the brink, poised and ready to make a career of all these words. And yet…

Often days, even weeks, go by without writing a single word. Days that are full of not just the routine maintenance and care of a home and family, but with homework helping, piano teaching, baby building, book reading, game playing, story listening and many other rich and rewarding things that I’m simply not willing to give up. I will not give them up because I want to be present in my children’s lives; and because I know that in the grand scheme of things, my children, not the number of books I’ve published, will be my greatest prize.

This raising of a family is God’s work. I know this. I feel it in my heart, in my bones, and even in the very words that I write. I do not think it coincidental that those moments that have brought me closest to God are moments I’ve experienced as a mother. Writing is rewarding in its own right, but mothering? Mothering is sanctifying.

And so I mother first. I mother first, and I write when I can, knowing that eventually a season will come when there will be more time–a season when the morning sickness, the diapers, and the shepherding of toddlers are in the past. While I fully expect to enjoy those future days, I will not wish away today. Because here and now is where my children need me. . . present . . . aware . . . battleships built . . . and hair braided.

QUESTION:  Do you ever catch yourself distracted from what really matters as a mother by temporary disappointments or frustrations?

CHALLENGE:  The next time you get overwhelmed, disappointed, frustrated, or just plain tired, give yourself a 30-second “lecture” or “pep talk”. Try using this phrase “It doesn’t matter that I didn’t do this today, because I did do ___________ and that does matter because __________.” See if this simple phrase can help you change your thinking and help you recognize those moments of real importance in the lon

About Jenny Proctor

Jenny Proctor was born in the mountains of Western North Carolina, a place she still resides and considers the loveliest on earth. She hikes to spend time with her husband and six children, runs because her love for food requires it, and writes because it keeps her calm in an otherwise crazy world. Jenny's first novel, The House at Rose Creek, was released in 2013.