Mother-work

My little one has finally fallen asleep next to me and my big one is upstairs with his daddy, so I have a quiet moment to myself, which is a rare occasion. I decided to spend it contemplating my life.

I have always wanted to have kids. I have always wanted a husband, for that matter. So, I can safely say that the life I chose is one that I always looked forward to and I enjoy, and I wouldn't pursue another path as long as I am able. That said, I have some thoughts on my position in life right now.

I do love raising little boys. I love their spirit and their curiosity. I love that they love to show me everything they are doing, always checking to see if I'm watching their new trick or if I approve of their new effort. I don't think they grow out of this. Husbands kind of do the same thing, and it delights me to share in the adventure. I have found, though, that I am constantly tugged in every direction, and I think that I can foresee how I will age.

Mothers are pulled and tugged and demanded of until parts of them loosen. Gravity and mother-work start to pull on their bodies and their minds until both start to droop a little. I feel myself sag when my one year old refuses to eat for the fifth time that day. I can feel a spring pop when my newborn cries and cries inconsolably. My body, granted, is a few sizes too big from pregnancy, but it's still the wrong shape, and will probably never look the same again (although I hold out hope that with my current diet and exercise regimen, I can still be as confident as ever in my appearance). This is the cost of mother-work. This is the cost of bringing humans into the world and pouring out myself so that they can be built up.

I'm not doing it perfectly, and I'm sure that in some places I'm downright wrong. I'm as selfish as I ever was, just with more responsibility. I know that my children, at the end of the day, are free agents with their own unique desires, intentions, and motivations that could one day take them far from me - physically, emotionally, or spiritually. But I do hope that I can offer them everything they need to choose to be strong men of God, with respect for others and themselves. I hope that they see needs in the world that they can meet and that I can equip them as much as possible to do so. I hope that I can be a woman worthy of respect and that in doing so, I can teach them to respect all women. 

I love being a mother. I love ruling my house and keeping order (or at least trying to). I know that, if I'm lucky, I'll be old and gray with lots of stories and advice to offer a younger woman one day. For now, I'm battling extra pounds and a child who refuses to eat and a newborn who will only sleep on his stomach and a schedule that I just can't seem to get the hang of. I'm blessed to be in a position where we can afford for me to stay at home and do this kind of work. I will sag and wear as my skin and my mind go a little threadbare, but I know I'm doing good work and I hope in the long run all these worn out places of my person will be a testimony of my effort, and I will have two good, gracious, and godly men to show for it.