For the Love of Motherhood
I laboured with the topic of motherhood. It’s huge really to consider. Mothering takes all manner of shapes and forms.
I can start with my own mother. Amazing woman. So many little things strike me now that I took for granted growing up. The way she made our homemade snacks, no pre-wrapped packaged stuff in our lunchboxes. At the time I remember sitting in class and watching longingly as others unwrapped their fruit roll-ups and wishing mom would pack me one. Now as a mom myself I see the dedication, time, and love that went into ensuring we were set up with nutritious food to sustain us through the long school days. The way she would sing as though no one was listening. Anything that came with a song was fun. Oh, the trickery in getting us to tidy up! To this day the love of singing resonates strongly within me. Her patience, her steadfastness to her faith, her love for her kids. All of this I remember and still holds true today as she mothers me, even though I am adulting.
The relationship has of course evolved, but I find now, as I am journeying this sometimes scary path of shaping the lives of smaller humans, that I realize how often I turn to mom for guidance, direction, or just to say, “OMG, I am so sorry I ever put you through….[insert whatever hair pulling out the kids are causing in the moment].”
My own foray into motherhood: I knew at a very young age that I wanted to be a mom. Starting when I was seven, when my baby sister was born. I remember telling my mom, this is my baby. When I was young, I mentored, I tutored, I wanted to be of help. I babysat all the time. Then becoming an auntie for the first time, I was in heaven. I just felt complete in these moments with little ones. I can’t explain it, but it was a feeling of being home.
I love motherhood, I do, with all its ups and downs, and tears there is so much laughter, joy, and fulfillment. Nothing warms your heart more than to see these tiny beings grow, develop, and become independent and unique. My proudest mom moment is watching the boys, who despite their annoying one another, love each other so fiercely. They come to each other’s rescue if someone else dares “mess” with them. It’s the most beautiful thing to witness. I love also the way, from their vantage point, everything is simple, still uncomplicated by the “shoulds” and the what-will-the-neighbours-think BS, and I pray that I don’t inadvertently sully that by imposing my own ingrained baggage. I think my job is to raise these little humans to think and act in ways that are loving and authentic. To know that they are good enough exactly as they are. Holy smokes, no small feat, and I thank all the mothers and mother figures out there who in their ways touch and help shape these little humans.
I would be remiss to not call out mothers who mother regardless of how they got there. To the “bonus” moms out there who take on influencing, shaping, loving little, and not so little ones, the work you do is incredible. I watch step-parents, social workers, teachers, nurses, coaches, healers, all these fantastic women, who mother by nurturing and caring for the children that come into their lives. That is a gift. A huge gift for which I say thank you!
Raising kids is hard work. Rewarding yes, a million times yes, but also hard work. I am grateful for the role and also grateful for all the mother figures in my life that help make the job a little easier.
Written by: Melanie Groves; Metamorphosis Healing
