what can happen to a stay-at-home mom?

she can cocoon and control.

of course, that's never the intention, is it?



the infant stage closes the blinds, silences the smartphone, but not so that we can't stay in touch with the world virtually.

we refuse girl's nights out. we decline the evite. we take a raincheck for the playdate.

our hands are full. there's no time for rest.

just when the feeding, changing, and playing is done, 

it's dishes, laundry, and grabbing a quick bite to eat.

we cocoon.

"it's just better this way," is what becomes our mantra.


"our better way" becomes control.

we structure home and family in such a way 

that only we can do it.

we can't leave for fear he won't do it right.

we work our errands around the little one's schedules for fear our day just might crumble.

we push back friendships. 

"they'll understand," we assure ourselves.

we know God gets our busy lives.

"He can wait," glancing at the Book of promises by the bed.

cocoon and control.

the little ones begin to toddle.

we pull back the shades and let worldly voices in.


our culture softly screams,

"buy organic. 

create the invitations homemade. 

sign them up young."


fear grabs you,

"you'd better stay here. 

there's not much you have to offer out there.

besides, who would take care of home and family?"


your reflection in the mirror echoes back,

"look at you. you're a mess. 

you've got everyone thinking you've got it all together, 

but seriously, come on.

 who are you fooling?"


i've cocooned.

i control.

i allow those voices to speak loud and harsh.

they provoke me to respond and whip me to follow.

i hold ever so tightly to my precious kids as if i am the protector and defender. as if i can bar the doors and withhold all evil. 

i insure my domain. i pop anyone's hands that try to toy with my structure. i've got it all planned out. i reign everyone in and give them commands. 


who am i? and what have i become?

gothel, the woman raising rapuntzel in the tower?

making "my way" appear perfect while all the while life was never intended to be lived in isolation.

rapuntzel loved gothel as mom. she heeded her words,

 but knew there was something more.


friend, this is not about your kids. 

this is about me and you.

for if we can get this right, we give our kids freedom.

it's sure time we squirm our way out of the cocoon

and be who we were intended to be -

 beautiful creatures made to fly above circumstances,

to move through seasons at various paces - some crawling, some fast, some flittering, some still.

soaking in the moments.

let's be honest.

butterflies capture attention. 

the kind that says, "there must be a God." 

the kind that says, "i want that freedom."


it's never too late to relinquish control.

to live like you don't have it all together.

to let your kids thrive under your husband's care.

to let some fresh air in and get out in the fresh air. 

to look back in the face of culture, fear, and our own reflection and say, "i choose today to let go and be free."

for my sake and the sake of those i love.