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Oh, Motherhood

Thursday, May 10, 2018


Oh, motherhood.

You're messy. You leave no surface untouched with fingerprints, from dining room tables to my very heart -- a reminder that "nice" things will have to wait and also that "nice" things are overrated, anyway. Someday there won't be popsicle hands reaching for me or sloppy peanut butter kisses. 

You're a fickle thing. One minute you have me riding the highest high of my life, praying out loud that the moment will never end, begging for time to please, oh please, stand still in this moment. But just like my children when I plead with them to hold still, time never listens. The next minute I'm plummeting into a sea of "what the hell do I do?" because there are actual tiny humans who I made and who need me every moment and they also just happen to be having a very public breakdown. Later I'll have mine less publicly.

And that's ok, motherhood. I get it. I hear you loud and clear: just like the tiny ones I look after, I am human too. More human, it seems, than ever before.

You have a way of pointing out all of my flaws, and at the same time you have turned me into a superhero. I am an actual superhero, thank you very much. My kids tell me so, and so does the fact that I can accomplish more in one day than should be humanly possible.

Somehow, you have made me love and admire my own mother even more than I did before. How is that possible? It's because, now, I so clearly see every hard decision she made, every time she put herself last, every experience she worked so hard to give us. I recognize the pride, the disappointment, the joy, the sacrifice, and the steadfast love. When I lay my own hand under my daughter's cheek as she falls asleep, I remember holding tightly to hers. I remember the comfort of her presence, the calm in her voice, the warmth of her hug. 

Motherhood, now that I know you, I am overwhelmed by how much I am loved and humbled that now it's my chance to give that to my daughters. I hope that someday they, too, might know you and in turn realize the depth of my love for them.

So, yes, motherhood. You're loud and you smell and sometimes you make me cry but, my God, you are the most beautiful thing I have ever known and I am forever grateful for you.

2 comments:

  1. A beautiful post Jen! You really are a great writer - you capture the range of emotions really well. Joanne x

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    Replies
    1. Thank you so much, Joanne! I truly appreciate that. And cheers to you, fellow superwoman! ;) xo

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