Settling, not settling.

I can stand to be one:

A better mother.

My heart is so full of love for my son that sometimes I don't think I can contain myself. His big blue eyes fill my own with joy. His hugs make me all warm inside. His minnie mouse voice makes my soul giggle. And the way he dances innocently around the kitchen to Kari Jobe music gives me hope that maybe, just maybe, he'll still be sold out for Jesus when he's on his way to Southeastern the college of his choice.

Every Saturday, unless we have previous plans, is our time to hang out together, because a lot of times Daddy is at work. It's our special time to spend together. To get chicken nuggets and pick out a toy. To go yardsale-ing with red Mimi. To wake up, in our home, relaxed with nothing to do but be together. I get my coffee, he drinks his juice, we snuggle and he watches Peppa Pig while I read or write. They are glorious days that make me truly wonder what heaven will be like. Because if heaven is anything like that, then I'm definitely looking forward to it.

But there are also moments when I think I'm going to go crazy. When he asks me things for what feels like 600 times in a row. And it's THE SAME THING. Over and over and over.

OR, he feels the need to tell me every detail about what he is thinking, or what he wants to do, or what he sees in the car. Truthfully, sometimes it drives me absolutely bonkers.

Sometimes I LITERALLY do not know how I will make it through another minute of his endless chatter. And I think, "And there is only one of him, some people have two and three and four!"

Goodness me, "terrible" two's were a piece of CAKE compared to the three's. Late three's, to be exact.

I'm not going to sit here and write about how hard this is sometimes, being a mother to a chatty three-year-old. But that oh, how gosh, I love him even through his tantrums. YES, that is a given. Of course I do.

But sometimes it is downright HARD and we moms need to scream at the top of our lungs for some straight up help in the sanity department. Yes, it would be harder with two, or three, but right now I have ONE. And ONE is hard enough as it freakin' is.

Especially one who is almost four.

God bless.

I need help. Serious help, when it comes to knowing how to do this mom thing. I'm doing the best I can, but boy is it hard.

The thing, honestly, that tends to get me through, is knowing that I AM his mom. That's me. Levi's mom. Trying to make a difference in his life. Raising him to be godly, pure, responsible, obedient, studious, and a righteous, sold-out Jesus follower.

Of course I AM more than a mom. I'm a human being. A wife, a daughter, a woman who has needs, desires, wants, and even guilts.

BUT, I'm also a mom who knows that my calling in life, right now, is to be just that: a mom.

I'm called to be a mother.

What higher earthly calling (than to first be a wife), could there be?

My job - my DREAM - is to nurture this little one. To fold his laundry. To bake cookies with him, with JOY. To watch him color. To give him a bath. To BE.....his mom.

As hard as it is, and as lonely as it sometimes is, I'm his mom. And that's totally and completely where I need and want to be.

Giving him love, receiving his love, and raising him to be a man of Christ.

Living a dream of many wants just doesn't do it. But living a dream to follow Him and be the mom I was destined to be takes courage. Courage I'm willing to go for. To sacrifice for. To settle for. Because settling, in this case, is not a bad thing. It's a downright beautiful thing.