A glimpse at the brave, and very real, mother.
She understands that staying up late holding her toddler doesn't mean that she'll get to sleep in late and yet she does it anyways.
She knows that despite being very busy that those children racing around the store, jumping down the stairs, throwing all the clothes out of the drawer that were just folded while they look for the one shirt that they love, are truly blessings.
She's a fighter for her children - an advocate, a dreamer for them, and is not afraid to make sure that they are safe. She'll stop traffic for them, will scan a crowd for them, and will not be afraid to keep the rules in place for them.
She wipes up spill after spill and wipes face after face and wipes away the tears and still manages to kiss them all goodnight and whisper words of love. She'll walk into their room at night and watch them sleep while wondering why in the world they were so trying during the day when they look like an angel while they sleep.
She can grocery shop in stealth mode with a toddler in the gigantic cart with the blue police truck in front, a baby in her sling, and a preschooler finding all sorts of favorite new things to try.
She is able to read the same book over and over and over again as well as provide entertaining voices for each of the characters. And she artfully knows the skill of skipping some long paragraphs for those nights when bedtime needs to arrive just a bit earlier.
She has the phone numbers for the doctor, dentist, soccer coach, and pizza place programmed on her phone. She also has the phone number for her dear friend who can remind her of everything she's doing right memorized.
She understands that phrases like I hate you and you're a horrible mom and this dinner is awful don't define her. She works hard to brush them off and to keep loving and fighting for those ones who are pushing her buttons.
She makes mistakes. She owns her mistakes. And then she brushes off the mistakes and tries again.
She laughs. She laughs at the simplest things - the preschooler and their funny sayings. Sometimes she remembers to write them down. And sometimes she is thankful for facebook because she shared them there and thus wrote them down at least somewhere.
She tries to say yes more to her kids - even if it's just playing trains, running in the backyard, or reading one more book at bedtime. And yes to herself - often that yes is really a no to more things to do and yes to her family or for time off.
She works hard. Sometimes she works out of the home or in the home or a combination of both. But, no matter what, the brave mother works. And often she doesn't get much credit for that work, but she keeps on doing it.
She's learning to compare less.
She has mastered the yoga pants look and pony tail in the hair. She also knows that if she runs to the store really quick with the hopes that she doesn't run into anyone that she almost certainly will run into someone.
She understands that fears of failure, not measuring up, overwhelm, and all of that are normal. They don't define her. In fact, she's learning that those things that she worries about are the very things that make her stronger.
She has sometimes learned the art of the whisper. When they get loud - she whispers. And if she forgot this one now she'll remember.
She can store a month's worth of dates and appointments in a calendar in her head. Most of the time. For the other times she's thankful for her phone.
She understands that time keeps moving and tries really hard to embrace the days that she is given. And sometimes, on those days that are just plain hard, she's truly grateful that time does keep moving.
She knows when to put down her phone and shut the computer screen but she's not afraid to use them or to give herself a break or to pull out her camera to take a picture.
She can remove toys from their packaging in record time and can assemble toys just as fast. And she knows where batteries might possibly be for those needed toys or which toys to take them out of so that the new toy can have them.
She tapes artwork on the fridge, wipes handprints off the wall, sweeps dirt from the floor, rescues baseball gloves from the grass, puts books back on the shelf, cheers from the sidelines, gives up her coat, and pours hundreds of glasses of water all the while remembering that it is just a season, a window of time, in life.
She may be weary and deep down need sweet reminders of worth. Like you matter. You're amazing. You make a difference. You can do this. You are mom - a hero. Stuff like that.
She is a mom. A brave, empowered, go-getter, fighter, beautiful, trying to remember the little things, stepping out in faith, tucking them into bed at night and being grateful, mom.
It's the little ordinary it's just a mom things that make a mom.
What little thing do you love about being a mom?
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