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Writing Ryan recently encouraged me to enter a writing contest on motherhood. It was such fun and quite the challenge actually to compress my thoughts into 500 concise words. I submitted two entries. Both contained the same writing, while one had one jumbled paragraph to further illustrate my thoughts on the subject and the other posed paragraphs of mere thoughts. Anyway, I didn't have as much time to commit to it as I'd hoped, but I still thoroughly enjoyed writing it. It forced me to reflect on the last 7 1/2 years, as well as listen to the mothers' thoughts and observations of motherhood of those around me. Here it is. Again, I'm slightly embarrassed to admit I signed up for a contest. After all, I'm the sole beneficiary of the writing. It really has proven to be therapeutic for me and given me perspective. Anyway, here it is.


Motherhood is . . .
By Keri Allred

Motherhood is the product of a million moments that when multiplied together equals love. It’s the newfound capacity to love someone so much you would give anything for his happiness. It’s retelling that birthing story over and over again and years later, still remembering every detail. It’s perusing the pharmacy aisles at three a.m., because your baby needs medicine. It’s realizing you’ve gone four days without washing your hair, because every time you get close to showering, the phone rings, someone needs you, or another mess has piled up. It’s laughing at the spilled milk or flooded bathroom, because if you don’t, you will cry. It’s shutting the bathroom door, only to have little ones instantly need you. It’s cuddling up to read about Big Nutbrown Hare or Old Dan and Little Ann. It’s feeling like this is the most crass job you’ve ever experienced, after being puked and pooped on all in one day: Then, you hear your child exclaim across the lobby, “That’s my mom!” and you realize it can’t be more rewarding. It’s wardrobes of superman capes. It’s writing down all of the funny words your child says like, “resternaut,” “hannguhbers,” “Home Depot Hippo Whippo,” and “Sanny Ho.” It’s wiping away those tears you said you would never cry on the first day of kindergarten and following the bus to school to spy on your child. It’s receiving unsolicited advice from your younger brother or that neighbor that doesn’t even have kids. It’s shared tears when your child tells you someone teased him so much he cried, and you realize, then, that he’s growing up and his little world is changing. It’s turning your head so your child can’t see your smile at his smart alec comment, while disciplining him. It’s the school bus not coming fast enough, because it’s been one of “those” kinds of mornings. Yet, it’s standing in front of that same school bus, willing it to stop, for fear that you are going to miss it all. It’s bribing your child to sit through church (though you said you never would). It’s eating your words 100 times over with all of the things you “knew” about motherhood long before ever becoming one. It’s routinely checking your sanity. It’s your heart breaking, because you must deliver consequences. It’s accepting your child was sent to you with special needs, talents, and differences, and it is the way God intended him. It’s holding your child in the night, because he’s sick and needs comfort; yet, by the end of holding him, you realize he’s comforting you. It’s your child telling you that it embarrasses him when you sing or kiss him. It’s laughing through Toy Story 3 until Andy gives up the most precious part of his childhood, Woody, and you begin to suffocate in your chest. You realize it’s going to be gone and over with all too soon.

Motherhood is finding happiness in the moments. Live in the moment.