The post Mother’s Day post. This is real life. One worn out, no makeup on, very tired momma, and one of my kids leaning on me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. There is no where I’d rather be than wrapped up in my children.

Being a mom is like a kick in the teeth and standing on a mountain peak all at the same time. There is no preparation in the world that gets you ready for motherhood. You will know love like you never knew possible and you will worry and feel pain to an unbelievable degree.
In your life as a mother you will become a researcher, a caregiver, a chef, an Uber driver, a teacher, a dictionary, a clock, a CEO, a magician, a hairdresser, a maid, a minister, an adviser, a punching bag, a life-growing machine, a seamstress, a personal shopper, a mediator, an accountant, a cargo handling supervisor, a LEGO engineer, a baker, a therapist, a photographer, a coach, a cheerleader, a communications expert, a doorman, a coat rack, an emergency management specialist, a fund raiser, a story teller, a janitor (not the same as a maid), a locksmith, a maintenance and repair expert, a mathematician, a DJ, a cup holder, a dishwasher, a tour guide, an entertainer, and the ultimate finder of lost things. For many of the beginning years, you are the world to your child, their everything, then they will grow and become independent (as we’ve trained them to do) and you will feel obsolete as they turn to others instead of you. The journey we go on with our children is incredible, the God given mercy and strength we receive to do our mom-thing is incomprehensible.
In my twenty two years as a mom, I have watched life begin, I’ve stood before a doctor as he told me my son’s chance of survival was slim, I’ve prayed until words were gone, I’ve cried until tears were dry, I’ve lost pregnancies, I’ve seen miracles, I’ve faced postpartum depression, and I’ve held my children when they were afraid, hurting, sick, broken-hearted, and unsure of life’s purpose. The love of a mother is only superseded by God. I can vividly recall moments of being embattled through tough times with my children and thinking, “They don’t know, they don’t understand, I love them with a love that is so pure, so fierce, so deep, and so unending.”
No, motherhood is not what we expect or are prepared for. It’s so much more, it’s better and harder than our wildest imaginations. These four children have made me a momma, and it’s the greatest gift I’ve ever known.

Moving out of our nest here at home means a lot of things. It means you will now pay for your own roof, you’ll buy and prepare your own food, and you’ll learn how to pay for your own vehicle registration without me. It means that you’ll experience day to day life without the protection of your parents. It means that your little sisters will no longer knock on your door, or worse yet, open it without permission. It means you will no longer hear the sounds of your family day and night. But there are some things that will not change and I need you to know what they are. You are forever my son, and every single day of my life I will pray for you. As long as I have breath, I am here to listen to you, and to tell you that I love you. I won’t rescue you from any bad choices you may make, but I’ll stand beside you proudly and encourage you while you rise up from a fall. I will always believe in you, I will always see the best in you, and I will always smile when you walk through our front door. Anytime you want a meal, you can come home and find a seat at our table. And whenever you need a place of refuge, you will find it, here in my heart.

