“the trenches of motherhood (n): the stage of parenting in which your children are preschool aged or younger; a 5+ year blur.
I don’t know who first used this term in my presence. I think it was my friend Denae. We both had twins (hers are two years older than mine), and when I’d vent about the crazy of a day, she’d just nod her head and say, “You’re in the trenches, Shannah.”
You’re In the Army Now
The trenches of motherhood is like being in the army during war. Like a endless battle, the only goal is to keep your head down and your people alive. A battalion of small ones rule every single aspect of your life.
Any attempt to move your troop from one place to another involves enough gear to outfit an entire aircraft carrier and resembles herding turtles more than actual progress on your part.
It takes gargantuan feats of strength and endurance to do what used to be a breeze. Like grocery shopping.
Getting out the door takes 25 minutes. Getting everyone buckled into the never-ending clasps of infant, rear-facing, five-point-harness confusion that is car seats takes another 25. Walking through a parking lot into a store is at least a 10-minute jaunt while you try to hold on to at least one body part or article of clothing for every child in your charge.
And then you finally get into the store.
In over an hour, you’ve only arrived at the grocery store. You still haven’t buckled anyone into the cart. And you now have 27 minutes to find everything on your list and get back home before nap time.
Worst of all, the fifteen-month-old is already eyeing you like she’s planning her blow-out for exactly 13 minutes from now, somewhere in the canned spaghetti sauce aisle because, while once upon a time you prepared mostly home-cooked meals for your family, now–now you’re in the trenches … and you’re all just trying to survive.
If You’re in the Trenches…
Please know. You’re doing a great job. It doesn’t always feel like. Mostly you feel like a big failure in every conceivable way. But you’re doing a great job.
Really. Yes, you are tired. You are so overwhelmed. It’s a never-ending cycle of cleaning and dressing and napping and feeding and everything else. As my friend said recently, “Somewhere in the late-afternoon I look at everyone and think, ‘Wait, you want to eat again!?!'”
But you’re doing a really good job. And I see you. We see you. Those of us who are past the trenches, we forget how it was. Sure, each stage brings new challenges and different problems. But that first stage? The trenches? We’ve forgotten how bleak and tired those days can be.
And of course, there’s joy. So much joy. They snuggle and laugh and think you hang the moon. They fit on your lap and love to hear you read. And just the fact that you show up every morning to get them out of their cribs makes their entire face light up. It’s so good.
But good and tired aren’t mutually exclusive. Whether you go to work or stay home all day, it doesn’t matter. You’re beat. And that’s okay. It’s okay to be tired. It’s okay to admit that you need help. Or a break. Or a coffee date. It’s okay to hire a house cleaning service or a babysitter or whatever will make your life manageable. It’s okay.
Because you’re doing a great, wonderful, hard, glorious job in the trenches.
And If You’ve Graduated…
Do you remember? Do you really? Just how hard it was?
And no, parenting older kids isn’t easier, really. But in some ways, it is. They wipe their own bottoms now. Mine are getting their own drinks and snacks. They can do their own homework and read for hours without me (though I still read-aloud at bedtime … that’s too important to give up.)
And for parents of teens, it’s even bigger. The problems are bigger. Their emotions are bigger. So are yours. They’re learning to do so much more of life separately from you, so the mistakes are bigger. It’s scary. And hard.
All of parenting is.
But for just one second, will you stop this week? Will you look around your workplace or church or school or play group or wherever you go, and look for a mom who’s still in the trenches of motherhood.
She needs something from you. A hand with a diaper bag, maybe. An offer to hold a hand walking across the parking lot. An invitation to dinner, for their family to come hang with yours. Maybe just need a smile or word of encouragement.
It’s been a while, but you were once where they are. You were that tired. You were that overwhelmed. And someone did something nice for you. Do you remember? The meal. The flowers. The offer to babysit. The hug while you while you cried about the mundaneness of it all. The playdate she scheduled to get you out of the house for the first time with a toddler and the new baby in tow.
You can do that now. Reach out to the momma in the trenches. She needs you. The trenches of motherhood are hard. She’s been praying for someone to see her. You can be the answer to her prayer.
