Mother's Day

Me and My Boys

          I can’t even keep plants alive. That was the thought tunneling around in my head over and over again. Cradling my newborn baby in my arms, preparing to leave the hospital for home, my emotions over feeling inadequate yet overjoyed mulled together in my mind. Are they truly going to let me take this perfect, beautiful, little creature home when I have no idea what I am doing? Nine years down the road and three children later (with no healthy foliage in sight) those feelings of joy/inadequacy are still very present in my mind. Luckily for me, motherhood is finding joy amidst being a delightfully hot-mess. 

When I was growing up I never imagined I'd be a stay-at-home mom. If  I was going to have children I'd maybe have one or two. I wasn't a born nurturer and the idea of being stuck in a home with a bunch of children sounded like a pretty limited future.

Wasn't for me.

Much to my surprise, when I became a mother  - the opposite happened - I found myself. 

I was hired on for the most humbling, joyous, pull your hair out, put on your game face, character building job alive.

A couple weeks ago, while traveling for spring break, we stopped at a small restaurant for a bite and to stretch our legs. I used the restroom quickly and then hurried out to help my family order. My four year-old kept patting my bottom, smiling at me curiously. I finally spoke softly in his ear, “Honey, don’t touch Mama’s bottom”.  He replied, “There’s a napkin on you.” Looking over my shoulder toward my behind I sadly noticed he was right. Somehow I’d latched the toilet paper I had placed on the toilet seat to my pants while pulling them back up. Lovely. My son gave me a funny, understanding smile, recognizing his mother’s mistake. He hugged my leg as I snatched the paper and, as nonchalantly as possible, threw it in the garbage.  If I wasn’t a mother I probably would have taken my time in the restroom. I would have looked twice in the mirror noticing the toilet paper streaming from the waistband of my pants. The last thing I’d be worried about would be helping the four, travel worn children anxiously awaiting their meal. But, I would have missed out on the appropriate, priceless expression streamed across my four-year old boy’s face when he realized exactly why his mother had a “napkin” on her bottom.

Outwardly, this mother of four doesn’t have everything together. My eldest son is consistently five minutes late for school, shoving the remainder of his pop-tart breakfast down his throat while opening the school’s front door. My three year old recently gave up his Binky after desperately holding on to it for years, carrying it with him wherever he went. My 12 month old still wakes up once or twice a night, leaving me without a full night’s rest since who knows when. I look like a mother who is begging for a donation of a parenting book or two.

What people don’t see is during that rushed, five miles over the speed limit trip to school my nine year old has learned to say a prayer for his day and prays for those around him. My three year old had a Binky for so long because he was so adorable with it displayed in his mouth and I grew to love the little lisp leaking out with every word. I could let my twelve month old cry it out but my arms are dying to hold him close and comfort his perfect baby self.

I still can’t keep plants alive, be on time for things, or not attract embarrassing moments etc... and the list goes on and on. But I can be successful at being a mother. I can love my children fiercely and teach them as much as I know, not being ashamed in the areas where I publicly seem to fall short. 

I am a mother. I am a delightfully hot-mess.  

 
The Beloved,

thanks for these wonderful children you help me raise and encourage me to keep having :)

I love you FAMILY!

You are my world.