Motherhood has launched me into this whole new realm of insecurity and is staring at me in the face asking me to be humble and ask for help when I need it. I'm not sure why every time help is offered to me it feels like I am being challenged. If you accept, you are admitting defeat! Imperfection! Selfishness! That, compounded by my strange and probably unfounded insecurity that the world thinks that I am too young to be a decent or effective mother, has made me feel (totally self-imposed) scrutiny. It seems that the more help offered to me, the less comfortable I feel with it because I can't help but wonder what I'm doing to make myself look so desperate.
I wish I had a tidy little story I could conclude my thoughts with that would prove what great strides I've made in swallowing my pride. There is none, other than this post in which I'm finally admitting where I'm at. Thankfully, I am surrounded by people, more experienced people, that don't need to wait for me to admit when I need help because they already know that I do. They have shown me grace and encouragement that carries me through days and days. Every stranger that gives me a smile and "good job!" while carrying my crying baby in one arm and trying to steer the grocery cart with the other, while trying to figure out how to untangle the car seat from the base, while wiping the spit up from my shirt while simultaneously trying to eat a meal at a restaurant, these people make me feel more sane and gracious with myself.