The greatest joy of my life has been being the mother to my son. I am blessed beyond measure to have the privilege of loving on this little stinker every single day. Every dirty diaper I get to change, every grimy face I get to wipe, every booboo I get to bandage… it’s my honor to do so.

I know that’s not the popular thing to say. What’s popular these days is to complain about how hard motherhood is… the loss of your free time, the damage to your figure, how tricky it is to figure out the right way to discipline. And those things are all 100% true. It’s no walk in the park. Motherhood is a freaking big mountain to climb that will give you achy muscles, sleepless nights, a million moments where you doubt and wonder “can I do this?”, and a million moments where you’re just plain struck dumb with happiness.

Anything that’s worth doing or having is probably not easy, right?

Maybe we should turn that “oh, woe is me” mentality on its ear. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s hard that makes it so rewarding. You know that moment when your child actually goes to sleep when you want him to? Maybe it’s all those times when he doesn’t that makes that victory so much sweeter. You know the moment when your child actually does what you say by the time you count to three? How amazing is THAT moment? Well it wouldn’t be so great if he did it EVERY time, now would it? Where’s the fun in that?

And then there are all those just plain magical moments where your child just looks at you and says you’re his best friend. Or gives you the biggest hug out of nowhere. Or asks you to snuggle him. Is there anything in the world better than that? I think not.

I always knew I’d be a mother. I knew I’d kick ass in my career but that never meant as much to me. Instead I think about the hours that work pulls me away from my son. The games that someone else gets to play. The song that someone else gets to teach him. The cuddles that someone else gets to give when he skins his knee on the playground. There I go again saying something unpopular. Well it’s my truth. I want those moments with the child I gave birth to. I want those moments with the guy who makes me laugh harder than anyone else. I want those moments with the child I’m committed to raising to be a contributing member of society, a good person, a Christian, and a loving husband and father. Those moments are mine and I hate that they are someone else’s for even a few hours.

My mom views motherhood much like my sister and I do. In fact I wrote about what I’ve learned from her last Mother’s Day. Parenting is a gift, even the really crappy parts. As a child and teenager I could tell that her ability to see the very best in us (and her unwillingness to gripe about us) didn’t exactly make her friends. She was often surprised by how common it was to hear a parent talk negatively about his/her kids to others. Is this how we make friends now? Maybe her mindset that ‘hey, my kids are great even when they’re just being kids and (shockingly) not perfect’ is unusual. How sad is that? Personally, I’d rather surround myself with people who can see the joy and the funny in the difficult stuff instead of just wallowing in it.

I am not a perfect mom.

But I am a happy mom.

I am a mom who does her best even though sometimes I miss the mark.

I am a mom who thanks God daily for the kid He put in my life.

I am a mom who one day hopes to be the mother to another child.

I’m just me.

And my Mother’s Day thank you is to this guy.

…this guy who gets giddy when I climb in his crib at night.

…this guy who understands that we’re moving and keeps insisting that we get an orange house because “orange is my favorite, Mommy” and believes that one must wear swim goggles while packing.

…this guy who think his doggies are his personal playthings and giggles when he catches them.

…this guy who adores his family (especially his baby cousin).

…this guy who thinks a tie is appropriate attire any day of the week.

…this guy who plays hard because he sees the fun in everyday.

…this guy who has made my life better with his very first breath.

… this guy who just minutes ago I found trying to shave with his daddy’s razor when he should have been napping.

Yes, for all these reasons and a gazillion more I am thankful and proud to be my son’s mom.

Happy Mother’s Day to you all!

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