Life Happens and Perfect Does Not Exist
Oh my sweet wild ones. I am here to show you what human is. The proof you need that life happens and perfect does not exist. That homework assignment I was supposed to sign but didn’t? Yes, sometimes I can be absent minded. The soccer game I couldn’t make? Yes, sometimes I let people down. The sharpie you drew with all over my walls? Yes, sometimes I can be quick to anger. The car accident we survived that totaled our car? Yes, sometimes I can be extremely scared. The dirty dishes piled high in the sink, the bath tub I haven’t scrubbed in two weeks, the crumbs on the floor sticking to your bare feet? Yes, sometimes I can be messy. When I tell you ten times to hurry up!? Yes, sometimes I can be impatient. Let my forgivable weaknesses teach you to welcome yours for what they are. May you observe with bright eyes as I accept my flaws. May you feel comfort and peace as you witness my fallible ways. These highs and lows will come and go, mistakes may come plenty, but this one thing is constant…there is nothing on this planet that consumes my thoughts more than you and my love will never waiver.
Motherhood. An eternal relationship made of the purest love. These amazing souls, knitted delicately in the womb and woven carefully into our hearts. Mothers love, humble and authentic, truly selfless. Sometimes I am so caught up in the thick of my own motherhood that I become blind to the little eyes that are paying close attention to every tiny detail of my being. I’m spending a million minutes a week magically molding these little wild-things and half the time I don’t even realize I’m leaving an impact. This is so brilliant yet so scary at the same time. Motherhood does not dish out certificates or awards. It does not come with a bonus or a shiny silver trophy. It does not come with a paycheck or recognition for the never ending hours we spend selflessly giving ourselves to others. Quite honestly one of the hardest parts of mama life for me is the inevitable invisible. The unnoticed daily do’s that fill my kids tanks to the brim but in return can leave my mama tank on empty. The same intense love and unnoticed daily grind my mother gave and still gives to me. Tonight I crammed my tiny tribe of seven into four seats on a crowded train ride home and when I did so I noticed an older woman staring in our direction. She continued to do this for several stops, sharing a sweet smile every time our eyes locked. Of course we were on the “quiet” train car, and anyone who has a child or more knows it is darn near impossible to keep kids silent. Especially when they are in a new environment, wedged skin to skin, feeling a mixture of excitement and uncomfortableness all at the same time. As the train began to clear of passengers my littles were able to spread out, each getting their own seat. One stop before ours the white haired woman stood up to exit the train. As she did so she leaned in and whispered in my ear “You have such a nice family. I can see the love. Good job mommy.” She patted my shoulder, smiled and left before I could even say thank you. Oh my heart and how it was beating something fierce. There it was, the acknowledgement my mom self quietly yearns for each and every day. This special stranger filled my mother tank with just three short sentences. She was the chicken noodle soup for my exhausted mama soul. She was my reminder that we have the power… women, mothers… to fill each other’s tanks. To be the shiny trophy for the mama in need. To be the bonus at the end of the day for the mother who deserves it so. Today this beautiful woman gave me hope and assurance. Tomorrow I will pay it forward, because heaven knows we mama’s need all the hope and assurance we can get.