I used to despise reading assignments followed up with book report assignments in middle and high school. To the point where [confession time] I would just skim a few chapters and create a crafty ‘review’ honing in on only the content I knew I could speak to if the teacher asked any follow-up questions.
Isn’t it ironic how we change as we grow up? Now, I’m about to tell you three reasons why you need to stop whatever it is you are doing, pull up Amazon and order Jen Hatmaker’s For the Love – mid read!
Run your race. After reading 10 chapters, this is the best way I can describe the underlined theme of this book. Hatmaker is spicy, witty and has no shame calling out the absurdities we face in America as working women, wives, moms and Christians. She does us all a favor and says, in black ink, what we all silently think and burry deep down in fear of neglect or rejection from society, and then tells us why it’s absolutely insane to cave into the nonsense [and by golly we might be overworked, overtired, overstimulated moms but we are not insane]. Sometimes, ok a lot of times, you just need a good book to remind you of this lesson.
School-aged mamas, this one’s for you. We’re six months away from our oldest entering kindergarten, but all three attend a ‘mom’s day out’ type of place three days a week. Hatmaker’s Surviving School chapter had me in tears. If you need to pull yourself out of the educational freenzie for a breath, hardy laugh and a reminder that if your child doesn’t like you all the time, you are doing a darn good job, this one’s for you! Here’s a sneak peek:
“Moms, I can barely speak of what Pintrest has done to us here. Between bento boxes with sandwiches cut into the shape of dolphins leaping into a sea of kale, and spraying our kids’ feet with lemon essential oils to soothe their troubles, I just can’t even …”
Three words … THANK YOU NOTES. Yes, the Jimmy Fallon kind, only mommy-ized. Let me dangle two carrots in front of you, because one of these entries simply won’t suffice.
“Thank you obvious warning labels. Without you I might have stuck my kid in a washing machine, lit a match near an open gas line, used my hair dryer while sleeping, or, God forbid, not realized eggs may contain – wait for it – eggs. I have no idea how I ever functioned without you. (I almost ingested the contents of a lava lamp just yesterday, but your label made another quick save. God bless.)”
“Thank you, Miss ‘Could you bring me these pants in a size 2?’for finding the dressing room adjacent to mine no matter when or where I try on clothes. You keep me humble. I also appreciate hearing how my size shirt ‘swallows you.’ And yes, we all know how ‘cold you are in here’ without any natural insulation. Eat a sandwich.”