Dear Mothers #1

For Maxed Out Mama

Dear mothers,

I’m a working mom and pastor's wife of two littles—ages five and two. Both my kids are incredibly active, creative and energetic. After my oldest was born and made it clear that his main goal was to run through life, I hoped and prayed for a chill sibling. Well, little sister has daily proven to be her brother's match in all areas of speed and noise. Sometimes when we are in public places, I observe something that feels to me as phenomena—quiet, calm children.

Now, I realize that these children that I perceive as sedated saints drive their mothers crazy in their own unique ways. But, dear mothers, I’m here to ask—do active, loud children require more from their mothers?

Do any other mothers of busy, noisy kids feel like they are daily existing in sensory overload? Has anyone else considered buying noise canceling headphones to wear on the commute to school and work? No, just me? Great.

Let me reassure any doubters—I love being with my kids. Also I should add their high level of activity and noise is definitely a genetic gift from me. Honestly, their intense personalities are often a gift for this ministry family. We have people in and out of our house all the time and my kids don’t seem to miss a beat. Our front door opens and they instantly see a new friend to bring into their constant play. But, when the congregation full of playmates and entertainers aren’t in my living room helping listen to the stories, answer the questions, play hide and seek, etc—it's typically mom and the crazies.

Do you know any other mothers out there who feel like the noise and activity of little kids is all just a little too much … a lot of the time? What do you do, dear mothers, when the whiny voices or seemingly constant requests for snacks make your skin crawl? How do you respond to the constant “mom!mom!mom!” without returning the call with a scream? Taking a midday solo walk in the silence sounds ideal, but, also due to my children’s ages, illegal.

-Maxed Out Mama

Dear Maxed Out Mama,

I hope this letter finds you at a moment of peace, perhaps in the bathroom, maybe hiding somewhere in your home, or even in the preschool parking lot where you showed up 20 minutes early because you knew the kids would watch a movie quietly in the van while you just sat in the parked car and did, well, nothing. I don’t know, but I truly am hoping you’re in one of those places, able to take in the sound of hopefully very little. Chances are, though, you’re smack in the middle of one child riding his balance bike down the hallway yelling, “Look out!”—and another, she is somewhere in the house, but you were looking down at your phone to read this and she saw an opportunity to take a Sharpie pen to the couch. In that case, I’ll try to make this quick, so you can go find her. (White vinegar works wonders, FYI.)