Most of my blogs compose themselves in my head while I’m busy doing other things. I think about what’s happening around me and what’s relevant in my world. This morning as I was getting ready to head into the office, I was thinking about Mother’s Day coming up and what it really means to me personally to be a mother.
My boys are my universe. I watch them every day and am still absolutely in awe of the fact that those three beautiful, perfect children grew inside me. When I talk about them everyone can hear my pride; they are such incredible boys. They are funny and smart, talented beyond words. Each of them is so incredibly different, but all three are so incredibly alike. My heart overflows with how much love I feel for them.
But there are things that I wish that I could change about being a mother.
There was a time that I could hear a siren and not automatically feel my heart start to beat faster at the thought that something might be wrong. If I see an ambulance travelling in the boys’ direction on a day when I’m heading home to pick them up, I hold my breath until I see them and know that they are safe.
I have to learn to let go. As Daniel gets older I’m struggling with finding the right balance between giving him freedom and being comfortable with that freedom. I’ve had more than one person tell me that my rules won’t work for a kid who’s almost 16. I’m trying, but I’m struggling to find the balance because the balance means overcoming my fears. It means starting to let go and to admit to myself that he is almost ready for me to let go.
I hate that I think of the boys as growing up in a broken home. I know that this is what our culture calls it when we raise children outside the marriage in which they were conceived. I’m scare d that the boys will grow up and feel broken. I’m afraid that no matter how much I love them and how much I give them, that the damage they will sustain long term as a result of the fractured relationship between their dad and I will not be repairable.
I’m scared that one day those boys will be grown and they will leave and I won’t know what to do with myself. I won’t know how to move forward without having them there by my side. And for all my complaining about Michael waking me in the wee hours of the morning when he crawls into my bed and strokes my hair, I’m afraid that the day will come that he does not anymore. I’m afraid that one day Lucas won’t come up behind me as I’m trying to get things done and wrap his arms around me and tell me that he loves me and he needs a hug.
Being a mother is enmeshed in who I am; I am nothing if I am not their mother. The sound of the noise and the sound of the love are intertwined in my world. Being their mother is the most rewarding and frightening thing I will ever undertake. But I wouldn't have it any other way. I wouldn't change the tears, the fright, the joy, the laughter the absolute craziness for anything in this whole world. I wouldn't change a single piece of how it has unfolded because this is their story and my story is only about them.
Happy Mother’s Day to all you mothers. As you go down your own path of mothering I hope that the joy will always outweigh the sadness and that you will be able to find yourself again one day when those children are all grown.