I am inherently selfish.
This is what motherhood is slowly and painfully teaching me.
I have never claimed to be selfless, but I surely never thought I was this bad.
The thoughts that run through my head for the majority of the day are all about me.
I am tired.
I want a nap.
I want to get out of his house.
I want some peace and quiet.
I want to read my grown up book (aka NOT “Dig Dig Digging” for the 30th time today).
I want to surf the web and drink tea and not hear crying.
I want a day off.
Selfish. All of them. Every single thought some days is selfish.
Now don’t get me wrong – my child is healthy, and well fed, and well loved and well played with.
But secretly? Inside of me? Where no one but Jesus can see?
Dirty filthy rotten selfishness.
I don’t want to wash the dishes for the third time today. I don’t want to cuddle with my neurotic puppy. I don’t want to try and feed my teething toddler who is more interested in flinging food than eating it. I don’t want to play stack cups for the 13th time today. I don’t want to make dinner again. I don’t want to wait until 8pm to eat. I want my husband to come home before 7:30 pm, because I want a break from my teething toddler who is screaming. Again. I don’t want to mop up more spit up from the already-ruined carpet.
And I look at my mommy friends and see nothing but beautiful, peaceful, giving, selfless women. No one complains…no one looks selfish…no one looks tired or exhausted or out of patience. They tell wonderful glowing stories about how wonderful and beautiful it is to be a mother.
And it is. It is wonderful and beautiful.
But it is also character building and shaping.
It is hard work – “work-out-your-salvation-with-fear-and-trembling” hard work.
And the character quality that I need the most work on lately?
Of which I have none, apparently.
I knew I would learn a lot from motherhood – but I didn’t know it would be so much, so soon, and so…painful.