Two more days and we get to honor those who gave us life. This may seem a bit biased as I am a Mommy myself, but I can’t think of a position in this life that is more sacrificial than that of a mother.
It begins with nearly a year of serving as a walking incubator. Belly’s expand. Swelling sets in causing a lack of separation of legs & feet resulting in what’s affectionately known as “cankles.” You endure agony so intense that it doesn’t register on the “rank your pain” smiley face chart. We’re not even going to talk about the changes to the once svelte body that now looks more like…well…like I said, we’re not going to talk about those unpleasantries.
Then there are the early years, when Mom barely has time to eat much less sleep, bathe or be bothered to groom herself. Every moment is devoted to this tiny human that God has blessed her with. She feeds, changes, swaddles, rocks, coos and kisses at all hours of the day. Sleep deprivation makes her a bit loopy. You haven’t lived until you’ve poured coffee “into”an upside down mug or put milk away in the cabinet. She can no longer carry on an intelligent conversation. Talks now revolve around breastfeeding woes, whose kid has the worst “blow-outs” and when will my body return to normal.
Toddler days, my personal favorite. Little Johnny has suddenly became mobile. That moment that you longed to see come has arrived and you find yourself questioning why you were in such a hurry?! They climb counter tops, yank table clothes, ride the dog & follow you EVERYWHERE you go. The bathroom is no longer your safe zone. Now you throw away your favorite momentos destroyed by tiny hands, wipe grape jelly from the walls and vow to not harm this tiny terror who used to be so angelic.
Moving on to school years, finally a reprieve. You daydream of all the things you will accomplish while your mini-mes are off to get their learn on. But wait, now your phone rings off the hook! “Can you bake this? Can you volunteer here? Can you sew? Can you supervise? Can you lead? Can you reconstruct the Statue of Liberty while reciting the Declaration of Independence backwards?” (Ok, so the last one is a slight exaggeration.) And you do it all, not because you feel obligated but because you have been privileged enough to stay home full time so that you can be available for your kids at all times. Roman noodles, PB & J’s and fried bologna have made this possible, so I would be remiss if I didn’t give them a shout out.
Then we enter a Hell known as “living with teenagers.” This is a stage that I am new to so I don’t have much insight. What I do know is that we deserve some sort of medal for not backhanding those left in our charge when they roll their eyes, shake their heads, huff with exasperation and slam doors as if they are the ones who have the right to be irritated! We rush from cross country meets, to football games, to choir practice and dance class. We rattle off stats and plays and brag about how much awesomeness is pouring out of our kids. All the while, putting our own dreams on hold, not begrudgingly, but with excitement for what the future holds for these spectacular, complex, sometimes hateful, now taller than you, people.
Adulthood is when some might assume that mothering slows down. Based on my relationship with my own momma, I can vouch for how wrong that assumption is. My poor mother has counseled me, nurtured me & comforted me in all types of crisis, even more so now than she did as a child. She’s helped to mend my broken heart. She’s brought clarity to my muddled mind when I’ve been overwhelmed. Probably the most meaningful are the times she’s let me sob over the mistakes I’ve made, only to reassure me that I am more than my failures.
I am forever grateful for the momma that I was given. I am equally thankful for the 5 that call me mommy. I can’t imagine what the world be like if God hadn’t blessed us with the gift of mothers. In spite of all the ups and downs, the times were I’ve questioned my sanity and the moments of complete exhaustion, I wouldn’t trade this job for all the riches of the world. Don’t forget to celebrate your mom this Sunday…and every single day that you are here on this earth. She deserves your praise.
“She keeps an eye on everyone in her household, and keeps them all busy and productive. Her children respect and bless her; her husband joins in with words of praise: “Many women have done wonderful things, but you’ve outclassed them all!” Charm can mislead and beauty soon fades. The woman to be admired and praised is the woman who lives in the Fear-of-God. Give her everything she deserves! Festoon her life with praises!” (Proverbs 31-Message)