Success. We all strive for it, and we envy those who have it, but what is it? I’ve been contemplating this quite a bit lately. It seems that the concept of success has been turning up everywhere in my life these past few weeks, and, being a person that doesn’t really believe much in coincidence, I’ve been seeking to learn what God is trying to teach me about my own personal success.
My first thoughts on this started with the book we’re reading for our mom’s group, Mom to Mom. We are reading Momology: A Mom’s Guide to Shaping Great Kids by Shelly Radic. (By the way, this happens to be a GREAT book!) One of the questions had to do with feeling successful as a mom, and it really made me think. Anyone who knows me well knows that I don’t like to look at what I’m good at. I am my own greatest critic, and critiquing my mommy skills is certainly no exception. In fact, realizing how lousy I feel as a mom so frequently is one of the reasons I started this blog! But that’s not the point. As I thought about my success as a mom, I found that the days I feel most successful are actually the days that I do the least. My feelings of success do not come from getting the laundry finished, or cooking a fantastic meal… they don’t come from dressing my kids perfectly, or getting everyone to school on time. The times when I feel most successful as a mommy are the days when I have a real conversation with my six-year-old and give her my undivided attention, or the days when I sit down on the floor with my two-year-old and do puzzles and play games. I feel success when I read the Bible and pray with my girls without rushing through to the next task, or when we run around the yard and act silly. No, I’m not accomplishing some great task by the world’s standards on those days, but on those days I see joy and happiness in the eyes of my girls, and that is what makes me feel successful as a mom.
My challenge at this point is to put an end to the worrying about all the “stuff.” I mean, really, who cares if I have a mountain of laundry, or if my girls wear mismatched clothes? Does it really matter if we eat a home-cooked, four-course meal every night? And those dust bunnies under my couch aren’t really hurting anyone today. My goal is to spend more time on what really matters, and as a mommy to two fantastic little girls, they are what really matters.