I walked through the church lobby, a twin’s hand in each of mine, baby strapped to my chest. Nico napped contentedly in the carrier, and Kali and Sully eagerly filled me in on what they’d just learned in Sunday School as we crossed the hallway to collect Charleston from his class.
It was admittedly a pretty good moment: children were behaving and engaged; church had been a success; there was no need to rush to our next destination; I’d even managed to apply eye shadow that morning. I was feeling good about life just then, but those positive feelings could not have prepared me for the conversation I was about to have when an acquaintance caught my eye and came over to chat.
After a few brief pleasantries, my conversation partner casually mentioned that she had just been talking about me with a mutual friend: “I was telling her that some people are just meant to be moms—you know, people like Kendra.”
I didn’t respond, mostly because I didn’t know what to say. I agree that I am meant to be a mom, in that EVERY woman to whom God has given children is meant to be a mom. But I didn’t know why she had singled me out, and the confused look on my face must have prompted her to go on: “It’s just that you always have your act together. Your kids are so well behaved. You do so much, and your family is thriving. You make momming look so easy.”
At that I literally burst into laughter. Was she talking about me? Certainly this was a case of mistaken identity. Yes, the kids and I were having a decent morning, but that happy moment was by no means a reflection of our whole lives. What she couldn’t see from that church lobby were the tears that had been shed by THREE of four children in the car on the way to church, or the way I’d snapped at a child who dawdled getting into the van, or the full-on meltdown I’d had over who-knows-what the night before.
Wow, we really have you fooled is how I WANTED to reply. Instead, once I’d paused my laughter and collected my thoughts, I thanked her for the kind words, however underserving I felt. I tried to disabuse her of the notion that I was a “makes-it-look-easy” kind of mom, but she continued to positively affirm me for another minute until we needed to move on.
Later, when Luke returned home from serving on the production team during the second service at church, I regaled him with stories from our morning, including that surprising conversation. Like me, Luke chuckled at the thought that someone might hold such an easy-breezy view of my parenthood because he sees me behind the scenes and knows that easy is the last word he’d used to describe my approach to the mom life. He confirmed that my friend’s impression was not necessarily an accurate one.
Still, her words stayed with me. I didn’t exactly believe them, but I thought that maybe I could act as if they were true. And by acting, maybe I could become the type of mother she saw in me.
That afternoon, when the kids were bickering and I felt like shouting, I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I could be the kind of mom my friend assumed I already was. I stayed calm, because that’s what that kind of mom would do. That night, when my to-do list loomed and it all felt like just a little too much, I decided to pretend it was manageable and not overwhelming because that’s how a mom who has her act together would feel.
It’s been a few weeks since I received that gracious compliment, and I continue to think about it in moments when I’m feeling down on myself as a mother, or when motherhood isn’t going as I wish it would. Her encouragement reminds me that maybe I’m not failing after all. My outsides might be a little shinier than my behind-the-scenes, but it’s possible that the reality isn’t as dire as I sometimes make it out to be. Perhaps none of us is as polished as the face we put forward. If that’s true, it relieves the pressure of trying to emulate the image I see other “perfect” moms putting forth.
Another lasting outcome of those kind words is that I’m quicker to offer similar compliments to others. I’ve felt the power of verbal affirmation, and I want to pass it on! When I see someone else doing something I admire—whether it’s a friend or acquaintance or a passing stranger or someone in my own home—I don’t keep the admiration to myself. I pay the compliment, letting them know that they’re doing a good job. It’s possible (it’s LIKELY) I’m not seeing the full picture and that my kind words are not entirely warranted, but offering encouragement certainly won’t do any harm and has the potential to bring about a lot of good.
That unnecessary but sincere compliment could brighten a day, or it could call up something in the recipient that he or she was having trouble acknowledging for him or herself. Goodness knows we could use a little more kindness in our world, so I’m paying it forward. And I encourage you to do the same! Let’s be people who look for the good and offer some heartfelt graciousness.