I’m a Mother, Not a Martyr

I’m a Mother, not a Martyr. We should embrace motherhood and enjoy the beauty in it. Our kids are only little for such a little while. Don’t let it come and go without cherishing every moment.

I want to start by saying that I wrote this blog post almost two years ago but never published it. It’s not a delicious recipe with pretty pictures of food. It’s more than that. It’s my heart. Being laid bare. For you to read. In hopes that there’s even just one other woman out there who feels this way and needed someone to relate to today {or any day that you might stumble across this post}. I was actually talking to a sweet friend and told her I had written something for mother’s day but wasn’t sure if I was going to publish it. She said, “Well then you probably need to.” And that simple statement is what gave me the final push to go ahead and do it! So, here we go!

If you know me, then you know how much I adore being a mom. Motherhood has been the most fulfilling, beautiful and rewarding journey of my life. Of course we all have difficult days where we are certain we are failing our children at every turn, but the overall experience of being a mother is filled with joy and love. However, the current cultural perspective on motherhood saddens me deeply, and I wanted to share my heart with all of you today.

You’ve seen this scene before…a tired Mom in dirty clothes sits exasperated in her pantry drinking coffee straight from the pot, scarfing Oreos while her children poke their fingers through the gap between the door and the floor. She rants about how hard it is having small children and dreams of her life without the chaos, mess and noise. While I can relate to the experiences {like always having an audience in the bathroom} I wholeheartedly cannot comprehend the sentiment.

Our culture idolizes individualism. You are a one-woman army fighting the world and nothing or no one can or should change you. We are told that being our own individual person is the most important virtue and is something to aspire to.

This ideology is incompatible with motherhood. The idea that you can bring a child into the world and keep your life the same is completely incorrect. The notion that you can have a person wholly dependent on you and still be 100% individual is a lie. And why, oh women please tell me, why would we even want this? Yes, motherhood is hard but it’s also good.

When I got pregnant with Bethany my ENTIRE life changed. All of it. I no longer saw myself as an individual because I wasn’t. Every meal I ate, activity I partook in and belief I fought for, all of it now affected her.

This epidemic in our culture of making motherhood out to be something that deserves martyr status makes me gut-wrenchingly sad. Yes there are sleepless nights and poopy diapers, but ladies we need to embrace those things. I am a mother. It is a blessing. Not a cross I have to bear. So I wrote a letter, to no one in particular, explaining why I have chosen to embrace every moment of my motherhood, before it is gone. I want to live with no regrets of the most important kind…the time I spent with my children and husband.

To no one in particular,

I love my kids. When they’re born I want to snuggle them every minute of every day. I breathe in their sweet newborn scent every chance I get. I love witnessing every smile and every pouty lip as they begin to cry.  I have spent countless hours rocking my babies to sleep. Every night before they go to bed they snuggle up safe and warm in my arms and hear me tell them how much I love them.

I want to soak in every moment of their childhood, because it’ll be gone before I’m ready to let it go. My kids are a blessing. I begged God for them. I have children I didn’t get to hold…so I cherish holding the ones I do.

I choose reading stories, doing puzzles, and being present. I choose my kids over everything else I could be doing…every single day…and I do not feel like I’m missing out. There’s nothing more important. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

My job is raising my children, and I sacrifice daily to do it the best I know how. The rewards of such a calling are worth every act of self-denial. I’m “paid” in kisses and hugs, and peace knowing I have children who feel secure because I  am always with them.

I want to be present on their best and worst days so I don’t miss even a moment. I cherish the times I get to comfort my babies. They run into my arms after bumping their heads. I clean up their throw up and snuggle sicknesses away. I bandage every ouchie and wash away every tear. I sweep up their crumbs, change their stinky diapers, and wipe their boogers. Because who else should do it besides me?

I am mediator when they fight and counselor when they are sad. I’m disciplinarian, cook, storyteller, teacher, and the queen of their make-believe kingdom.  I’m replaceable everywhere else, but my kids will only ever have one mommy…and I am thankful it is me.