Please Don’t Make Me Breakfast

It’s Mother’s Day again and my children will be bringing me breakfast. I’m grateful, I really am. How could I not be?

Seeing the excitement on their faces as they plotted, quite conspicuously, to make me something that “wouldn’t make my ears ring” (I’m dealing with tinnitus and other inflammation issues)… it was the sweetest thing. What mom could be upset about her children being thoughtful?

My husband is planning to make me dinner. More food. They are showing love the way I show it to them. It’s a beautiful thing.

Perhaps I should make a habit of letting them sleep in.

That’s all I really want. Sleep.

How mothering (and wife-ing) can be so exhausting is beyond me. But every year, this is all I want. I just want rest. I just want a break. I don’t want to pretend to be happy that someone woke me up to bring me food at 7 am. I am grateful yes, but happy would not be the adjective I would use.

You see, I struggle to stay grateful. So while I can get there, I just want one day where I don’t have to. I want one day, heck one morning… where the normal challenges and expectations cease to exist.

So next year, please don’t make me breakfast.

Because last night, I had to comfort crying children… over popcorn and insecurities.

Because the night before I had to tell my teenager that midnight was too late to be playing video games… and keep my patience while doing it at midnight.

Because my health issues have caused me to not be able to sleep for so long, yet the morning always brings a new wave of demands I am uniquely equipped for and expected to handle.

Because my husband’s sleep habits interrupt the sleep I do get, but I don’t say anything because I know he feels awful about it.

Because my back hurts from being bent over bathtubs washing little one’s hair while they cry and refuse to look up so I can do it without pouring water all over their tiny faces. Then I have to brush it… while they cry again.

Because I shop for and cook the meals and I often let the children “help” since I know it is important for their development and our relationship… even though it takes an extra hour to prepare the food.

Because I spend SO MUCH emotional energy thinking of all the things no one else does so that our family can be safer, healthier, and happier.

Because I spend nights praying when I cannot sleep.

Because I often function as the backbone of this family but get little credit for it, which is ok because my strength comes from the Lord anyway…

But I’m tired.

I don’t want another breakfast. I want real rest for my body.

My mind will be ok.

My spirit will be ok.

I know how to care for these things. I know how to get in the presence of Christ and let Him heal, soothe, and restore me.

But I can’t create a situation where my body can properly recover without the help of my family, and that is what I really want for Mother’s Day.

I’m grateful. Even as I type this I am mindful to say those words because my words must be chosen so carefully since so many look to me for emotional support and comfort. Yes… I am grateful.

But I’m also human.

Please don’t call me super woman.

I’m not. I don’t want to be.

I just want one day where I get to be normal and weak and tired like anyone else in my family.

And please, don’t make me breakfast…

Unless it is after 10 am and you’ve already cleaned the house, taken the dogs out, ordered groceries, watered the plants, cut the lawn, registered children for school, kissed some boo-boos and wiped some butts.


Every mom ever.

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