In honor of Mother’s Day, I’m posting a second blog this week. Normally, I do one blog a week. The post below is last year’s Mother’s Day piece, and little has changed except I feel more alive today than I did yesterday. “We can live again!” as Grandpa Jack used to say when the peach harvest came in and that check from the cannery arrived along with it. This morning, I found myself with the same ultrasound lady who examined my pregnancy three and a half years ago when Cruz (in the above photo) was just twenty weeks old in my womb. Today, that same ultrasound tech (it was her 50th birthday, Happy Birthday, Kim!) gave me the good news that I don’t have breast cancer. She and the doctor assured me the lump is a benign cyst. I am SO grateful! Thank you for your prayers everyone! I couldn’t wait to share my good news with you.

So now here is the Mother’s day post: Two decades ago you labored into my life turning this night person into a morning person in the blink of a sleepy eye. Snoozing through sunrise became a thing of the past, along with about everything else indulgent in my life. Before you, I spent an hour curling my hair most mornings. After you, a ponytail became my best friend. I used to dress up and go out on the town. Now I dress down and go barefoot around the house. I’ve learned to cook, clean, and change a diaper with a baby on my hip. Some women accessorize with jewelry and scarfs. Toddlers and stains are my fashion statement. I haven’t worn earrings since our first son ripped the hoops from my lobes in 1998.

Because of you, raising kids has raised me up. I now think of others more than myself. I go without so my kids have all they need. I’ve learned it really is better to give than to receive. Last to eat. Last to sleep. Last to fix my teeth. Because of you, I gladly go last in life.  You aren’t pretty, but some moments you’re so beautiful you take my breath away. When I least expect it, you melt my heart. The work never ends, but at the end of the day, when the darlings are down, their precious little faces framed by their pillows, I feel content and convinced I was born to be a mom.

Then there are days when I’m six feet past the end of my rope. The two-year-old’s eating dog food and the five-year-old running down the driveway. The eight and ten-year-olds have upset the five-year-old by climbing trees and tossing cherries at him. The fifteen-year-old has his headphones on and can’t hear me yelling for help. Sometimes these boys are more than I can handle.  But I look at our girls and realize children grow up all too quickly.

How I miss painting tiny toenails and braiding sun-kissed hair. I remember the day I quit cussing so our daughters didn’t learn dirty words. How ten years into my marriage, I didn’t walk out the door when I wanted to because of these little ones. When things got hard, I got on my knees and got right with God because of you, Motherhood.  You’ve taught me so much about life and myself. About the power of saying sorry and the purpose of trying again. So much grace you have given me. Our first baby we took to German pubs in a backpack. Where I went, she went, and neither one of us knew what the heck we were doing back then. A brainless girl raising a baby girl, and yet it all worked out. 

So this Mother’s Day, I want to thank you. You have nourished me with joy, and spoon-fed me sorrow. You’ve given me grief, but so much more have you gowned me with goodness. Through it all, you have been the biggest reason I get out of bed in the morning and why I still fall into bed at night. You exhaust and exhilarate me. Crush and complete me like grapes turned to wine. How I thank God for you, Motherhood. Because in you, I’ve grown into me.   Our girls and boys… what a crew! Happy Mother’s Day to all you moms out there.