Staying Home - The Year It Rained
Recently I was asked to speak to a group of moms from my church. I was excited to share a few stories from my over 30 years of experience as a mom - the mistakes, the joys, the hard lessons and the memories of simple moments that still warm my heart years later. As restrictions due to COVID-19 grew tighter and orders to stay home were put in place, our time together was postponed indefinitely.
This season of staying at home reminds me of the weeks after our third child was born. Rachel was born three days before Christmas. I was on my third maternity leave in three years. There were a lot of changes going on, we recently bought our first home, my husband changed jobs a month before requiring him to work really long days, my dad was experiencing health issues and it was raining. A lot. It was an El Nino year and for southern California that means buckets of rain. Day after day. Week after week.
The day after Christmas all of my family went up to my uncle’s cabin a couple hours away in the small mountain town of Wrightwood. My husband with the help of my sister, packed up the car and our two oldest for a day of fun in the snow. I stayed home with Rachel anticipating a day of snuggles and sleep. Instead, shortly after everyone left, an alarm from a nearby house started to blare the most obnoxious noise. I have a noise issue and I those close to me know I have a rule of “no unnecessary noise!”. This noise definitely was not necessary. It continued for hours. Exhausted, I held Rachel tight and I cried waiting for my family to come home.
Our home came with an enclosed patio the previous owner used as an art studio. Before you picture a quaint artistic room, stop. It had a light floral paneling, huge windows that could either have a screen or a heavy plastic covering. It was built without a permit and it showed. When we bought our house we intended to tear down this eyesore, but found it made the perfect space for a playroom. By the time Rachel was born, the room looked like the Little Tikes section at Toys R Us complete with a kitchen, workbench and a coupe car. The problem was it leaked and with all the rain, water not only came in from the flat roof, water was coming in from the backyard. It was a disaster. And so was my house.
Before having our third child I thought I could do it all. That’s what society in the early 90’s told us and that was the expectation I set up for myself. Martha Stewart was my mentor. I gardened, I cooked, I worked outside the home and I now had three small children. What I didn’t realize was that having a third child would mean we were out numbered! No more quick trips to the grocery store, going anywhere with three children under three was a production. How can I be a my version of Martha Stewart if I can’t even get to the grocery store? Cue post-partum hormones, lack of sleep and husband who was working incredibly hard proving himself to a new boss. I was experiencing my own El Nino as tears fell. I felt alone and a failure.
For some women this is where the story ends. They feel alone, overwhelmed and inadequate. Afraid to tell their husband, mom or closest friends what they are experiencing so they cry in the shower, put on a forced smile and push on. That was me, except God gave me a wake-up call. Those details are too private to share because it’s not just my story, but what resulted was life changing. My people stepped in to help. One of my closest friends lived at the opposite end of the street from me. Our husbands are cousins and that was part of the draw for us to move into our neighborhood. Elizabeth was quick to put on a pot of tea, take out her Dutch red, white and blue Boerenbont teacups and listen. I spent countless hours in Elizabeth’s kitchen while our children played with toys from McDonald’s Happy Meals. Elizabeth didn’t try to fix me, she listened, hugged, prayed and poured another cup of tea.
Elizabeth and a handful of women from our church were attending a mom’s group, Mom’s Together, once a month at a large local community church. Since I was on maternity leave Elizabeth invited me to tag along. The first person I met was Amy, a woman who attend school with my husband! I can still picture Amy’s welcoming smile. Lisa was another mom who touched me with her creative talents and godly calmness. We were seated in round tables of eight, with a table leader who made sure we all felt at home. The morning started with Jan Brown, the coordinator, leading us in prayer and encouraging words from Proverbs 31. There was a speaker and a time for a simple craft. The craft was more to keep our hands busy and provide opportunity for conversation. In less than three hours, I felt a huge weight lifted off me. Through a morning of hearing God’s Word from a mom’s perspective, I realized I had my priorities all wrong. I was not called to be a supermom and wife. I was called to be a godly wife and mother. Those women that gathered one Wednesday a month became my tribe.
Acknowledging this did not stop the rain from falling, add more hours for sleep, or allow me to quit my full time job. What did happen is while the rain fell we danced to Mary Rice Hopkins’ Hippopotamus and Matilda the Gorilla songs, I leaned on my husband for help and I was able to modify my work schedule so I would be home two days a week with my babies and keep our health insurance. I learned that the woman Proverbs 31 describes, didn’t do all those tasks alone. She had a community. Being a part of a community is how we accomplish the work God has set before us. We can’t do life alone, we need each other.
Thank you for being a part of my community.
Love & hugs…
Audrey
