Being Mommy

Once upon a time, when I was a tiny dreamer in bouncy pig tails, I dreamed of becoming so many things when I grew up. Along the way, I would change my mind about so very many of my childhood aspirations.

I would never be a doctor, an astronaut or the school bus driver with the coolest party bus in town. Though my parents liked to joke I’d make a great one, I would never be a lawyer. I’d never be the first female POTUS, and I’d never be the ballerina queen of my own private island (though I reserve the right to change my mind back on that one).

There was really only one dream that would never waver in my heart. No matter what, I knew I would be a mommy. Though I thought I knew what that meant, nothing could have adequately prepared me for that take-my-breath away moment when I would first lock eyes with my first born daughter. Who knew the axis of my universe could shift so dramatically in one enchanted moment.

Loving her selflessly wasn’t a dutiful decision like I had imagined it would be. It was a compulsion, and that compulsion to love, protect, and uplift another life at all costs was birthed from the same God magic that brought each of us to this little blue planet. Though it was impossible for me to imagine how, new love was birthed again twice more with my next two children.

My understanding of my own mom’s journey shifted too the day I became a mom. How could I have spent so much time not realizing how profound her feelings were for us, her children?

And no wonder. No wonder she doted, no wonder she worried, no wonder she lectured, and no wonder she was willing to tolerate so much flack from her kids in order to steer us in beneficial directions.

It can never be said enough. Thank you, Mom. Thank you for demonstrating powerful love each and every day of my life. As moms, we are far from perfect. But we weren’t called to be. We are only ever called to live out of that Mom love. The best of humanity can be traced right back to that every time.

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