Dear Universe, Divine Spirit, or any celestial presence that might be listening (unlike my kids),
I find myself on my knees, reaching out for guidance as I navigate the wild world of parenting. Yes, I might be simultaneously scrubbing dried oatmeal off the carpet, but don’t confuse my multitasking with a lack of sincerity.
Today, grant me the physical strength to carry my little one through the grocery store parking lot as she thrashes about, demanding that pony cookie or declaring I’ll lose her friendship. Help me muster the emotional resilience to validate her feelings without resorting to yelling or losing my cool.
During her meltdown, lend me the strength to gently hold her flailing arms instead of reacting with frustration. And when her kicks come dangerously close to my face, let me resist the urge to retaliate.
I also need oodles of patience — more than I need caffeine! Enough patience to soothe my baby to sleep while I rock, bounce, nurse, or even do squats, all while my body reminds me of its post-baby state. Help me focus on swaying him gently, not shaking him, even when I feel exhausted and desperate for peace.
As we both battle fatigue, when the moment finally arrives and he falls asleep on my sweaty, unwashed self, remind me to cherish it, for this stage of life is fleeting.
Please grant me empathy today so I can understand the significance of my children’s whims, like needing their sandwiches cut into triangles instead of rectangles, even if they just requested the latter. Let me remember that I, too, can change my mind, even if not with the same dramatic flair.
When one of my little ones dashes away in a crowded parking lot, let me chase after them with gratitude for their adventurous spirit, even as I cringe at my post-baby belly wobbling. And when I discover my son with soggy toilet paper in hand, please spare me from gagging—I just can’t handle any more messes today.
When my daughter dresses herself in a mix of sparkly tights, a tank top, and a tiger T-shirt with a beanie, grant me the strength to appreciate her creativity without worrying about what kind of teenager she’ll become.
Help me answer the barrage of questions they throw at me with kindness instead of irritation. Questions about why cats are called cats or what distinguishes boobs and nipples may seem trivial, but let me recognize that their curiosity is a sign of brilliance, even as it tests my sanity.
As I hear myself yelling “Pick up your toys, or they’re going in the trash!” guide my inner voice to be gentler. When one child is gnawing on my face while another pretends to be a rabid animal, I could really use a glass of wine—please, God, bless me with that.
Assist me in calming their enthusiastic shrieks with laughter instead of threats, particularly when they shout “penis” in a public restaurant. And when spaghetti flies from their mouths onto our server, remind me that their manners are not a reflection of my parenting; they got that from their father!
Speaking of him, fill my heart with love so I can still show affection to my husband, even when he complains of fatigue after a full night’s sleep. And please boost my spirits when he finally wipes down the high chair for the second time ever.
As I glance at my body, which has been shaped by motherhood and is marked by sleepless nights and snacks, help me not to resent my children for what I’ve lost. Instead, let me appreciate that they are the gifts that came from it all. One day, when I am in need of care myself, it will be them looking after me, and I want to make sure I don’t mess that up.
Amen.
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Summary
This heartfelt prayer humorously captures the struggles and joys of motherhood, highlighting the need for strength, patience, and empathy in the chaotic journey of raising children. It speaks to the universal experience of parenting, reminding us to cherish each moment, even amidst the challenges.