it is real. and tough and straightforward. it is honest. it is raw. it is harsh.
are you ready?
in the motherhood there is not one winner.
after a solid 18 years you will not get asked to stand on the podium and claim your gold medal. you won't be offered a silver or a bronze, either. in fact, feeling that you deserve a medal will feel conceited and self-righteous, dishonest and convoluted.
we are all (or the better majority of us), deserving of the gold.
it's true. i do not tell a lie.
i remember when i first took steps into this motherhood journey i thought that
i kid you not!
and what a ride of disappointment i was in for?!!
natural childbirth with e = epic fail!
sleep training = oh no you didn't!
breast feeding = mastitis squared.
and then d came along...
natural childbirth = "i got this!"
sleep training = rockin' it!
breast feeding = holla!
oh wait.... she has food allergies and rashes and antibiotics galore. do i get some kind of honorable mention for seeing a naturopath for her allergies? i mean, i switched to 365 diapers from whole foods! that has got to cancel out something!
and then there was p...
natural childbirth... totally! but it sucked and hurt and almost was the death of me. worth it? i... think? i mean.... absolutely?
sleep training... we got her out of our bed by age 4 so we rocked THAT????!!! and she had colic and crying and a need to sleep with mom for at least 3 years prior... and most of my wrinkles are because i was sleep deprived for the better part of nine years.
and she totally rocked the boob. she did!
but at the age of 6 she eats a total of zero fruits. oh, wait. she eats granny smith apple slivers if cut by mom on a tuesday with the correct knife. and she
totally up for mom of the year. think no further about who might win the gold. hands down- it is me!... or maybe you... or really none of us... because you know your kid hates asparagus, and beef and milk.... she has was birthed by c-section and she can't (fill-in-the-blank).
eleven years into this parenthood gig, i laugh at my former self. what a joke! if i had known about the tween years i would have given myself a high-five for just birthing a baby... or even something living! if i had pushed out a goldfish, that would have been reason enough to be proud!
but i didn't. i birthed a real, live, wonderful, girl. three times, in fact. they are complicated and sweet. they are opinionated and funny. they are creative, amazing... and exhausting.
and every day of their lives is a gold medal moment.
last year my sisters dropped off her eldest, my maxi, at west point.
he had a cord wrapped around his neck... traumatic birth!
he nursed like a champ.
he needed back scratches in order to sleep for the better part of his first year. and second year. and third year....
he rocked the golf course.
he struggled with the potty business.
and now, he attends WEST POINT... where he plays FOOTBALL. my sister wins the gold. for sure!
my other sister had a baby weeks and weeks early.
he needed breathing treatments for months.
he was little and slightly behind developmentally.
for several years.
this year he is a frosh at taylor university, with scholarships, rocking out his faith while he plays football for his school. he is an academic champ. he is amazing with small children. he can hold his own in an adult conversation.
gold medal momma? for sure! my sister gets to own that!
from the sidelines i can see their successes. but in the trenches, i'm not sure they always felt like gold medal mommas. from day one, they parented the best they knew how, with God as their guide. one step in front of the other, not always feeling like rockstars, but aiming for the best with each pass that life handed them.
and moral of the story is this: at the end of the day, there is not a gold medal. do the best you can. rock whatever you feel led to rock in the motherhood. teach morals. teach values. teach boys to be boys with honor. teach girls to be girls with grace. teach your boys be gracious. teach your girls be honorable.
i look at those in my circle regularly. there is the momma that works full-time and leaves her babes in the hands of someone she has carefully chosen and she is rockin' the motherhood. gold medal winner!
there is the momma rockin' the full time gig with her kiddos in aftercare at the local school- gold medal winner!
there is the part-time momma, the pocket-book expanding momma, the lean-pocket momma, the traveling poppa momma, the single momma rockin' the motherhood, the no family in sight momma, the "it takes a village momma", the special circumstances momma, the twin momma, the... fill in the blank...
and each one of them wins the gold.
visualize it.
stand on the podium in your mind!
listen to the anthem. let the medal be placed around your neck. hold the flowers.
the motherhood is "no joke". we each win this gig- for creativity, or perseverance, or best-in-show, or "biggest obstacle overcome"... or whatever your title may be.
claim it.
own it.
and know that you are the "winner, winner, chicken dinner" of this motherhood gig.
it is hard.
it sucks from time to time.
it is never-ending.
and it it totally worth it... even when it feels insane.
even when it feels pointless.
you are molding human beings.
they need you.
they love you.
and the direction you steer them in maters.
final thoughts:
(and while you are in the motherhood race, it might be best if we cheer on our fellow teammates. building up those around us, pouring into their motherhood and letting them pour into ours- it is a win for everyone.)
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