Do I Love Being A Mom?

(I wrote this blog in 2010 after our first daughter left for college. I still believe every word written. Mostly the part about missing the short number of years our children spend with us under our roofs before they leave home. A great truth in life is that there is no calling nobler than that of "Mother.") 



Do I love being a mom, let me ponder for a moment.

First, there were the pregnancies, which included heartburn, sleepless nights, permanent stretch marks on my stomach that resemble a road map to nowhere, not to mention varicose veins.

Labor was unforgettable. I would have never believed the miracle of life could enter the world through such pain. Yet, with each birth, the memories of the pain faded (though are not entirely forgotten), as a new life entered the world.

Do I love being a mom? Well, since I became a mother, I have had to give up some things that I took for granted before childbirth, such as jumping jacks and sleep.

I eventually learned how to survive on little sleep, how to comfort a baby all night to ease the pain of an ear infection, how to love beyond limits I thought were possible, how to cook with one hand, and how to endure as I held down a full-time job.

I’ve seen the inside of every public bathroom within a 100-mile radius. I learned how to feed a child who couldn’t feed herself, even when I was so hungry myself that I thought I might pass out.

I have bought tutu’s, soccer shoes, softball gloves, swimming goggles, karate belts, running shoes, and more homecoming and prom dresses than you can shake a stick at.

I’ve spent countless hours at recitals, plays, softball games, soccer games, concerts, and--Lord help me if I have to go to the pumpkin patch one more time, I’m not sure I will survive it.

We have weathered colds, fevers, viruses and all the strange things that happen in the middle of the night. I have kissed boo-boos, fed imaginary friends, and rocked a child for so long that I thought my arm might drop off.

There have been many birthday celebrations and so many kids in our house at one time that my husband and I wondered aloud if anyone would notice should we vanish.

Our home has been the place for sleepovers and bonfires and many screaming silly girls doing all the things that screaming silly girls like to do. We have been able to share our home and our life with so many girls throughout the years, and we have fallen in love with each girl as we watched them grow into young women (who still like to be silly).

I have spent more time driving kids to and from events and sitting outside of schools waiting for kids than ought to be legal.

I have watched each one of our three daughters grow into her personality and gain confidence as her own life has taken different twists and turns. I have often wondered how our daughters can all be so alike and yet so different from one other.

I have learned that sometimes I don’t know anything at all, and sometimes I am a hero.

I have learned that my relationship with God is not a secret and that my children need to see my heart to know that God is real in my life. I have had to learn how to be vulnerable, so my children could understand that without God I am nothing. And with Him, I can do anything He asks me to do.

When children are young, it seems they will never grow up, yet when they grow up, it seems there is not enough time to instill in them all they must know before they leave the safety of the nest.

I have had days where I have failed miserably as a mother, and days when I have felt that I deserved a gold star. I have learned that memories created as a family are held differently in the heart of each child. It seems they remember the simple moments, not the moments that I tried hard to make special. They remember moments of spontaneity, yet forget the details of our planned vacations.

They love me despite my weaknesses and failures, and I love them even though their bedrooms usually look like a tornado went through them.

They have seen me without makeup, and love me no less than when I have tried to look my best. 

I have loved them through friendship troubles, and we have walked the road of heartache together as many of their friends have experienced the reality of divorced parents.

We laughed together, cried together, fought together, shared thousands of meals, and loved each other regardless of our many moods.

I had no idea what I was getting into when I entered the road marked "Motherhood." Motherhood has brought out the best in me and the worst in me, as nothing else possibly could. Some days I think I might lose my mind with the many responsibilities of being a mother, but most of the time, I wonder what I will do when they are no longer living under my roof, and laundry is no longer an event without a starting or ending point.

When we took our oldest daughter to college, I thought my heart would not survive the pain of separation.

As we drove away, I realized it was not just my mother’s heart that was breaking. I was saying goodbye to one of my best friends.

So, to answer the question, “Do I love being a mom?”

Nothing else that I have put my hand to has come close to the joy of being a mother. My children are my very heart.

I always believed that as a mother, it was my job to develop my children’s character. Now, however, after many years spent being a mother, I understand that it is God who develops our children’s character-- and then uses our children to build our character.

Yes, I love being a mom. 

Stay the Course...

Sheila