Who will Mother the Mothers?

For Grace

“I do not understand the mystery of grace -- only that it meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us.” ―Anne

How to find joy in motherhood:

1. Self-care

2. Pray more rosaries

3. Repeat affirmations in the mirror

4. Establish and religiously adhere to a multi-step morning routine

5. Make it a habit to attend daily mass

6. Practice a positive mindset (see: affirmations.)

7. Offer up the blowouts, meltdowns and interruptions of your days for the souls in purgatory.

Or so I’m told.

But I have questions. First of all, where are the kids while we’re doing all this self-care? Or is everyone secretly waking up at 3:00 AM? And who’s going to move the laundry from the washer to the dryer while I pack up my perpetually hungry children and usher them into the car for daily mass where I will inevitably feed them a collection of snacks that together add up to something lunch adjacent? And while we’re here, I’m supposed to bring them with me, yes? And that’s supposed to bring me joy, yes? And are the souls in purgatory going to resurrect and change that blowout? No? How about the meltdown? Can they handle that?

Come here—a little closer—and I’ll tell you where you can stick your positive affirmations.

Do you know what brings me joy in motherhood?

Grace. And no I do not mean God’s surprising goodness, handed out like fruit snacks at a play date. I mean Grace, our nanny who floats through the front every Tuesday and Wednesday afternoon like Mary Poppins in Birkenstocks.

When Grace shows up, I get to disappear. Sometimes I leave the house. I meet Jeff for lunch before marriage counseling or chat with Kate and Nikki at the bookstore. Other times I deliver flowers or a coffee to a friend’s front porch, write down an essay that’s been swirling in my head for days. Sometimes I hide in my room, run a bath or crawl into bed in my pajamas to watch a movie or read a book and dig into the secret snack stash in my nightstand.

I’m not thinking about the dishes in the sink. They’ll be in the dishwasher when I return and the counters will sparkle. Everyone’s shoes will be tucked into their assigned cubbies in the mud room which will have been tidied. The playroom that made me want to snap open a trash bag that very morning will look like a Montessori classroom when I get home. Somewhere a candle will be burning, filling the house with light and fragrance.

I had a long list of reasons not to hire a nanny:

1. They like to be paid for their work! Work I could (and do!) do for free!

2. I could be spending that time with the kids! After all, they’re growing up so fast!

3. Being a mom isn’t really that hard is it?! I mean, I can even do it in my pajamas if I want!

4. There are many mothers raising more kids with less help.

5. I wouldn’t need help if I just improved my mindset, established that morning routine, prayed more rosaries and did some self-care.

Did I mention I was a nanny? I nannied my ass off through college and grad school and not once did I look at the moms I worked with and think “If you just tried harder I wouldn’t be scraping egg yolk off your plates.” I loved love those families. My maid of honor was a mom I nannied for and she’s still one of my dearest friends. One kid I used to babysit now babysits my kids when we’re in Florida. Talk about surprising goodness.

A nanny may not be a mom but nannying is mothering. While those mothers were caring for everyone else, I got to care for them and that work brought me so much joy. I’m a better mom because of the moms who let me fold their laundry and wash their dishes, moms who trusted me with their kids while they carved out enough space and time to stretch out and take a nap or pursue a dream.

Each family taught me how to ask for help and more importantly, how to receive it. How many times as a mother have I prayed for grace, my hands raw and shoulders tense as I hold on tight, hanging from the end of my rope? Ask and you shall receive. I asked for grace and Grace appeared.

Someday, I hope, someone will scrape egg yolk off of Grace’s plates, label her toy bins, deliver a snack plate to her kids who are watching a movie in the theatre their nanny built out of blankets while they napped.

Someday Grace will know how to ask for help and how to receive it.

Meet me in the comments (or take it to your journal)

What beliefs do you have about asking for help? Are they serving you?

While you’re busy taking care of others, who takes care of you? Pop a note in the mail for them this week.