Mickey Mouse Saves the Day!

Today I sat on the floor in the playroom and colored a gigantic picture of Mickey Mouse while my children played nearby; because some days parenting well means taking care of myself first.  To some that might sound selfish, but I challenge you to think through this with me.  Can we be the best moms, wives, daughters, and friends we can be if we are running ragged and pouring ourselves out without ever filling ourselves back up?  Can a carpet cleaner keep a carpet clean if we keep using the same dirty water? (This example should inform you that I live with 3 boys and a dog.) No, it can't and we can't.  

Being a good mom doen't mean giving EVERYTHING you have and not doing anything for yourself.  Quite the contrary.  In the world of Social Work and Psychology, we have a term for this called "self care" (no, we didn't make this up, I'm sure).  In graduate school and in our workplaces, we spend a lot of time talking about this concept and instilling in ourselves the idea that this is an absolutely essential part of being a good Helper.  This is not only true for Helping professions.  It's true everywhere.  We must take care of ourselves before we can take care of others.  

Heck, even flight attendants teach us this-- 

"In case of emergency, secure your own breathing mask before assisting small children with theirs."

Jesus teaches us this as well.  In Matthew 11:28 He says, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest".  Today, Jesus gave me rest in the form of my favorite childhood pasttime.  He met me exactly where I was, because that's where I needed Him to be-- in the scent of colored wax and giant paper.  

Putting myself first is so hard sometimes-- not because I'm so incredibly selfless, but because I like to think that I'm Superwoman and I can "do it all" (I have an issue with dependence.  I may have written about that in a previous post), but I'm learning that it is essential in the world of motherhood.  

So thanks, Mickey, for being my air mask today, and thank you, Jesus for telling me that it's ok. (Oh, and thank you for friends who are understanding and supportive when I send them text messages saying that my children have been possessed and to be on standby if I need backup.  These women are my heroes. Couldn't do this thing without them.)