Titles and Descriptions

Posted on Apr 26, 2007 at 10:38 AM in Uncategorized

Being a mom is by far the craziest and most difficult job I’ve ever had. It is also the most satisfying, most frustrating, most exposing, and most challenging position I have ever held.

I smell like poop right now.

Or perhaps it’s my entire house that smells like that and I can no longer tell the difference. At any rate, I feel poopy and it’s not a pleasant feeling. I’ve washed and dried my hands multiple times, I’ve sprayed air freshener multiple times, I’ve washed and dried little hands, feet, and butt cheeks multiple times as well. Yet a lovely odor remains.

(Though you can’t tell in Blogworld, I just took a break from this post to go wipe up stain remover from the carpet where there was, you guessed it, poop, and my daughter proclaimed, “It STINKS in here.” Yes, yes it does.)

I say motherhood is an exposing position because it exposes the truth about me. Part of me want to hide this type of truth from people because I’d rather have you all think I’m a perfect mother. Okay, maybe not perfect, but at least one of those women who serves (ie. cleans up poop) without complaining. While I aim for Mother Teresa type qualities, I fall far short. I yell. I gripe. I feel sorry for myself. I get tired of the demands of this job. I’m lazy. The struggle for contentedness is ever-present for me.

In the middle of the craziness, in the exact moment when I’m dissatisfied with the mess in the house and with the mess in my heart, there is a little voice that speaks up and breaks through the crud. It’s not the Holy Spirit or even an angel on my right shoulder; it’s Livia saying something like, “Those new boots [you are wearing]? They so cute!” Or it’s a small cool hand placed on my arm accompanied by a request to cuddle. And I wonder, how did I get here? Is this child truly mine? How in the world can I be so blessed to be Livia’s mommy?

I’m not a big fan of poop (for the record, the odor still persists…), but there it is, part of my current job. Rebecca Tredway: Poop Cleaner. Rebecca Tredway: Hassled Housekeeper. Rebecca Tredway: Lover of Livia.

The last title makes it all worth it.

6 Comments

  1. Jamie Apr 26, 2007 1:03 PM

    I think I will learn a lot from you about being a mom. I want you to know: I really enjoy watching you and Livia interact. She is such a sweet girl, and she is great fun to be around. (I often chuckle to myself as I think about her comments at comm. dinner or read them on your blog — SO cute!) It’s true that you are a sinner, but I can see that Christ is redeeming that as you fulfill this role and title for Liv. Jones and I pray for your family often as he eats, that you would be blessed with many “arrows” (ps. 127). :)

  2. Renae Apr 27, 2007 10:15 AM

    I love this post. I am infinitely thankful that among your many tasks you always take time to be Counselor and Sanity Bringer to your neighbor. :)

  3. charity Apr 28, 2007 10:35 AM

    Other titles I was thinking of:

    Biography Lover
    In-the-house-only Techno/Hip Hop Dancer
    Sweets Lover
    Theatre Lover
    Crafty-artsy Aficionado
    Front-porch Rubber Necker

    ;-)

  4. caron May 2, 2007 2:55 PM

    i like reading your blog (come to u via renae/we have shared friends). this post, especially, made my day. for many reasons:

    1. the word POOP makes me laugh
    2. even though i like to talk about it a lot, it IS gross.
    3. you cut the crap & exposed yerself…and me..and all other mothers…made us vulnerable & even more FULL OF HOPE that in knowing we’re not alone…we have much to be thankful for…

    and now…to clean a poopy newborn!!!

  5. RT May 3, 2007 2:15 PM

    Welcome, Caron! I’ve enjoyed peeking (it feels like eavesdropping sometimes) at whocares — you’ve got a really great community there. Congrats on your sweet baby boy, by the way. : )

  6. RT May 3, 2007 2:16 PM

    From the in-the-house-only Techno/Hip Hop Dancer’s iPod: Little Bit More by Jamie Lidell. Thank you, Target, for the commercial I couldn’t shake from my head, the one my 2.5 year old sings along to. We now own the song and the Prairie Box has never seen so much grooving.

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