Oh, hey, mama. How’s your day going? Have you sat down yet? Have you carved out a moment for yourself? Do you need a shower? Are you hungry?
I see you, mama.
As you wade through your mountains of laundry, your piles of bills, your crumbs, your dirt, and all the sticky spills, take a deep breath. Take two more. This too shall pass. This will pass, and you will miss it.
Oh, yes, you will.
When you’re at your wit’s end and don’t know what to give them to eat, just shake your head and laugh. Your kids will not starve. They will not miss a beat. They will live on. They will live on to tell all the stories of how yucky your food always was and how you “never made anything good” and how that pork chop dish once a week was always so gross. And all your vegetables were mushy. And they will laugh about it, and you will sigh and shake your head and say, “You’ll see how easy it is. You’ll see.”
Oh, yes, someday they will see.
When you cradle your child and race to the car, with a cut so deep, it might leave a scar, hold yourself up, dear. He will be okay, and you will be okay, and all of it — yes, it will all be okay. This is just the motherhood way. Motherhood makes you ready for these moments of fluster and worry. You were made to pounce and protect in a hurry. Don’t you yet see that you’re a wonder of a woman, created by design? That you are indeed a warrior fierce and a goddess divine?
Oh, yes, you are.
When the day gets away, and life cuts you to the bone, and you feel nameless and faceless, and beyond alone, know that you are not. You stand with us, a whole army of mothers, with our vigil of prayers, across thousands of miles, both far and above, radiating beams of pure mama love. You are not alone, sister. Can you feel it? We stand with you.
Oh, yes, we do.
When one is jumping, and one is crying, and one is yelling, and one is lying, keep your damn head. Stay cool. Don’t play games. Don’t act like a raging fool. You’ll beat yourself up for it later, trust me. And who needs that? Quietly and confidently lay down the law. You have a boiling point, they know your last straw.
Oh, yes, they know it well.
When you carry six swinging bags of groceries in from downstairs, arms laden and straining, without fanfare, please know that no one else can do that. Because you’re awesome and you’re powerful, but mainly because there’s no way you’re making another trip. Who has time for that? Not one other person in your family can carry six bags of heavy groceries inside in one fell swoop, but you can.
Oh, yes, you can.
When your knees buckle, with resentment profound, and you “hate” your spouse, and you can’t hold your ground, know that you will make it past that tearful moment. It’s a hill, but it’s what builds your steadfast will, and it’s your will that makes you undeniably true — to your spouse and to your children, but mostly to you. They will remember your grace and how you always pushed through. And you will smile stoically, and knowingly, as you always do.
Oh, yes, you do.
Know why, mama?
Because you’re phenomenal. And you’re beautiful. You’re imperfect. But you’re real.
You’re messy, and you’re clean.
You love with every fiber (even when you’re mean). You’re a goddamn, bonafide Legendary Queen.
You’re a mother. And you are special.
Oh, yes, you are.
Now go have a drink.
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