In today’s world of Pinterest and perfection, it can be difficult to side step the pit of comparison and the trap of secret mom wars.
We are flooded with what we should be doing for our kids and what someone else is doing better. The crafts, the activities, the lessons, the plans, the play dates, the schedules, the rules. It seems motherhood has turned into a competitive sport these days. I wouldn’t be surprised if within a few years, “Motherhood” becomes the next event in the Olympic games. (Although we do work hard enough to deserve a spot.)
May the odds be ever in your favor.
Motherhood today is survival of the fittest and triumph of the trendiest. Everyone has an opinion about what you should be doing, what they would do differently, and why you’re doing it wrong no matter what route you’ve taken. There’s always something else. Something better, someone more organized, someone with a better plan, a more successful child. To someone, you will always be doing it wrong.
Here’s the good news.
To the little someone’s who matter, you‘re doing it right!
Kids don’t have the benefit of checking pinterest and reading the Facebook highlights in order to compare your success as a mother to the rest of the world’s mothers. (Until they get older that is.)
All they have is you!
You, who scoops them out of bed each morning. You, who tucks them into bed each night. You, who meets every need-whether they realize it or not. You, whose smile gives them confidence. You, whose arms comfort, shelter and protect them. You, who loves them more than life itself and has sacrificed everything for them.
I am amazed daily by the amount of love my boys have for me. To them, I’m magical. My kisses heal boo boos. My hugs take away fear. My hands make them brave. My arms make them feel at home. They think I can do anything. They have full confidence in my ability to fix everything, solve any problem and heal any wound. From skinned knees, to fights over toys, to missing items, to dirty clothes, to running out of milk; mom can fix it.
Even if something is obviously not going to work, they say, “But mommy can try!?” Any cut, scratch, ouchy, bug bite, fall, bump, or boo boo, they say, “Mommy can kiss it!” Instantly, the tears dry up and all is right in the world again (most of the time.) If something is broken, they say, “Mommy can fix it.” And they believe that with all that is within them. I hold the answer to every question, the remedy for any ailment, and the ability to meet every need; even if in reality, I don’t.
I remember thinking as a little girl that my mom was magical. She had to be. There’s no way a regular person could do all she did and still have energy to smile. Her love was endless and her abilities were supernatural. She knew things other people didn’t know, healed things other people couldn’t heal, and showed up every day in ways I thought only magic could explain. I always believed she had a direct connection to God and she communed with angels. I still believe that.
“To a child’s ear, ‘Mother’ is magic in any language.” Arlene Benedict
My boys look at me the same way. They know in all their infinite two year old and nine month old wisdom, that no one has ever or will ever love them as much as their mom does. They understand that I am for them. They know that there is nothing I won’t do for them. They can sense that my heart beats stronger because of them and that I want only the best for them. Their ability to grasp the concept of unconditional love comes from me right now. They’re starting to love each other and show affection to others the same way I do them. In those moments, I know I’m doing something right; and to me, that is magic.
To our children, moms are magical. To moms, our children are magical. They unlock places of our hearts nothing else can. New depths of love are found each day as a mother. In their eyes, I see myself.
I do believe moms are mystical. The secret we don’t understand until we become moms ourselves is that our supernatural powers come from two primary places: the love of our children and the love of God.
God has grabbed onto me and drawn me right into his chest through the gift of my boys. Motherhood to me is magical, but more than that, it’s spiritual. It’s been the thing God used to rescue me from myself. To redeem and restore my broken life. To help me understand His infinite grace, and to unveil His previously hidden face.
There is a triangular effect in motherhood. While God holds onto me, I hold onto my sons. While my sons hold onto me, God is holding onto them. My strength comes from heaven which has become more real to me since becoming a mom. I am braver, more confident, more joyful, and more fearless because of my boys. And they are all of those things because of me.
That is magical. That is where heaven meets earth. That is where God moves from being the guy in the sky to the breath in our lungs. That is where unconditional motherly love becomes a holy experience.
There may be mom wars swirling about and other women doing it better. I’ll never be perfect and I have a lot of mistakes ahead of me as a mom. There’s a million ways I fail every day; but to my boys, I’m doing it right. All they see is love.
My boys may think I’m magical, but what they don’t know is that they are really where the magic begins.