Motherhood

Motherhood

The Marathon

May 10, 2020 by 0 Comments

She remembers the day vividly. She was young, optimistic and prepared for the marathon ahead of her.  As she began, she could see the long road outstretched in front of her. The finish line was out of sight and her breathing slowly increased and became labored. She knew it would be worth it in the end, but the course was long and tortuous and she was nervous.

“What if I can’t do this after all?”

“Was this a mistake?”

“Why would I think I was made for this?”

Her heart rate sped up and her body followed instinctively. She felt out of control of her own body but marveled at its innate ability to propel forward.

Then the pain began.

Everything hurt; she had never experienced this level of pain before and yet the course was far from complete.  The finish line taunted her as she counted down the markers that tracked her progress. She was so close and yet so far away.

As the pain mounted, so did her fears.  Surrounded by people she still felt alone. Supporters cheered her on with declarations of “you can do this” but inside she was unsure and her confidence wavered.  As she persisted, companions who had done this before and run the same race followed along side her; still she was alone on this course. No one could feel the same pain, exhaustion or paralyzing fear that ran through her veins.

No, this feat she would face alone.

She struggled. She cried. She fought like hell with every ounce of her body.

And just when she thought she couldn’t possibly give anymore of herself… she fought some more.

With the finish line just within reach she pulled from the center of her soul, a part of her that she didn’t know existed, and threw herself desperately across the line.  Her body was broken and bruised, her mind was exhausted but her spirit was on fire.

Her breathing was quick and shallow and the sound of her heartbeat pounded in her ears when a high pitch cry broke through the air. But this was not a cry of pain or of relief. The cry came from the tiny bundle on her chest.

She was now a mother.

  

Happy Mother’s Day to every momma,
To the mothers who are holding their babies today.
To those who can’t wait to see their baby again in Heaven and
to those who have  dream of meeting their baby and yearn for ‘someday.’ 

Motherhood - Uncategorized

Adding a Little More Love to Valentine’s Day

February 14, 2020 by 0 Comments
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Running off the bus on the first day of summer vacation, catching snow flakes on eyelashes while making snow angels and licking the spoon after mom bakes a treat are inherently magical. Childhood is a magical time and as a mom I must constantly remind myself of that fact in order to keep from running myself to the point of exhaustion trying to create a magical childhood for my children. Before having kids, I knew so much and swore I’d be the mom who woke up early on every holiday, birthday or special occasion and create an extra (aka over-the-top) specialness to the day. If only I could go back in time and tell pre-kid Kate how difficult that is to actually execute when you are elbow deep in 3rd grade homework, potty training and breastfeeding.

Now that the kids are getting older though and the ‘magic’ of some childhood activities are on the cusp of extinction for my oldest, I do try to create (or rather revisit) small traditions we began when the kids were younger to celebrate the smaller holidays and milestones; adding sprinkles to the already sweet childhood if you will.

Valentine’s Day was a holiday we seemed to frequently overlook. With one birthday at the end of January and another on February 13th, we often woke up on the 14th with a nod of “hey, Happy Valentine’s Day” as we quickly ran kids out the door , praying there was just enough Valentine’s Day cards in their bag for their classmates. December through February 13th felt like a gauntlet and February 14th was the finish line with little attention to the holiday itself.

A few years ago, for a holiday celebrating love, I decided to recognize each child’s features and talents and highlight what makes them special….specifically what we love about them.

In the past I’ve used my Cricut machine to cut out basic heart shapes for the sheer fact that it saves time, however this year I used the tried-and-true method: fold paper twice, draw heart, cut one heart and ta-da four hearts are done. I cut 14 hearts for each child and on each heart I wrote a simple note stating what I loved about that child.

“Lily, I love how you are so kind to others at school.”

“Charley, I love how you always ask for an extra kiss at bedtime.”

“Xander, I love your contagious giggles.”

“Jojo, I love how you aren’t afraid to try new things. You are so brave.”

Simple. Specific. Personalized.

Each morning I would place one heart on the wall for the kids to find when they woke up and they would squeal with delight when they found their heart; eager to share their message with each other. More importantly, for the 14 days leading up to the holiday they would head off for school filled with extra love knowing that their momma

recognized their dedication.


adored their silly giggles.


admired their faith in God.


applauded their creativity.

praised their inquisitiveness .

Each heart is as unique as the child it was written for, but the love is equally distributed. This year, while placing the final hearts on the wall one heart caught my attention and took my breath away. Unbeknownst to me, my own mom snuck her own carefully crafted heart on the wall for her first baby to find.

Babies may get older, the childhood magic may dull or fade, but a mother’s love for her child never disappears.

Does your family do anything to add a little magic to this holiday? Share in the comments below!

Birth Stories - Family - Motherhood - Pregnancy

Always Kiss Your Momma

October 8, 2019 by 1 Comment
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The day Alexander was born I became a “boy mom.” (Although to be honest, I was always annoyed by the phrases “boy mom” and “girl mom” as if that made any difference to parenting. Moms with girls could have rough and tumble little girls who preferred mud pies over Easy Bake ovens; Moms with boys could have soft spoken little boys who carried a baby doll instead of Spiderman). Nonetheless, when Xander was born we unofficially met our gender quota and could relax in knowing that we would no longer be asked the intrusive question “are you going to try for a boy?”

After the delivery of each child I would stare at my sweet newborn’s face and marvel how something could fit so perfectly into my heart despite only arriving a mere hour ago. I would gently rock the new love of my life, pray obsessively over their little body and make promises that I hoped I would never break.

“Dear God thank you for this miracle that you have given us. Please help guide me to be the mother that this child deserves.”

As I kissed his sweet face I whispered, “I promise to nurture you in every way that I can. I promise to guide you as your grow into the incredible person I know you will become. I can’t promise that you will always be happy and I guarantee you will have your heart broken throughout your life, but I can promise that I will always be there for you. I promise to love you for who you are, not who I want you to be. I promise to let you make your own mistakes and choices, even when it is not what I would choose for you. I will teach you strength, compassion, truth and empathy. I promise to teach you manners, how to be respectful, how to treat girls-especially your sisters and momma….”

I remember pausing at that moment, alone with him in the middle of the night, and realizing that I would forever be the first woman he loved. For some reason it seemed more pivotal than it did with my girls. I knew that for the first few years of his life the sun would rise and set with me and as a pre-schooler he would announce “when I grow up I’m going to marry Momma.” I also knew that as the years passed this would fade and he would eventually grow to become someones boyfriend, fiancé and (God-willing) husband.

Post-delivery hospital memories are usually a blurry dream-like state for me, but this is a memory I have managed to keep clear in my mind. As tears welled in my tired eyes I made one more promise to Alexander,

“I promise to remind you to always kiss your momma.”

I realized that for the first eighteen-ish years of his life, he would need me to reassure him of my unending love for him. But as he grew and I began to feel the stinging pull of my baby boy leaving? I may be the one who needed the reassurance.

To this day, if you ask Alexander ‘what is the number one rule in this house?” He will respond with a toothless giggle, “always kiss your momma.”

It’s a ‘rule’ we practice nightly as I tuck him into bed. Still young enough to need a nightlight and his ‘Buddy’ blanket, but old enough to no longer need his mom’s lullabies and rocking chair cuddles, he will declare “always kiss your momma” before each goodnight kiss. Some nights I’ll tease him and ask “what about when you are in 3rd grade, 4th grade or 5th grade?” He will smile and say “Ill still always kiss my momma.”

“What about when you have a girlfriend?”
“Eww! I’ll still kiss my momma!”

As he leaves for school, his backpack bounces when he runs back to me on the front porch. The bus comes to a stop in front of our house and he gladly make his school mates wait as he says “I didn’t forget mom. Always kiss your momma.”

When I leave for work in the morning, I am frazzled and balancing my planner and coffee in one hand, quickly shelling out hugs, kisses and ‘you’re going to do great on your test today’ affirmations. Alexander reminds me “hey! Always kiss your momma!”

I’m not naive and I know it may not always be this easy. Someday his friends will be hangin’ around and he will be embarrassed. As a teenager he will inevitably ‘hate’ me for one reason or another and may refuse to show any form of affection as a means of retaliation (and I will have to try my damnedest to not let him know how much it hurts me). He may have an adoring girlfriend and reserve all of his affections for her. It will be during those years that I will fondly remember the memories we are creating today; the way he holds my face in his little hands, the way he giggles and the way he proudly and openly declares his love for his momma.

Someday the lap sitting, cuddles and calling me “momma” will fade into high fives and ‘hey mom”. He will likely stand taller than me, his voice will grow deep and his face will be rough with stubble while I look back and fondly remember the memories of today.

A mother’s love never dies, nor does the love a child has for his mother and I think it is important that we teach children to not be ashamed to show this love. I think as parents it should be our mission to show children, especially young boys, that affection is not a sign of weakness nor is love something that you should be ashamed of or kept hidden.

Even though this tradition began the day Xander was born, nowadays all four of my children happily follow this family “rule.” Every night I thank God for gifting me these children and my love for them does not change based on their gender. I am both a “girl mom” and a “boy mom” and I wear these badges with honor. I continue to ask for God’s guidance as I strive everyday to be the mother that they deserve. I am sure that some days I fall incredibly short of being a perfect mother, but I pray that my children never doubt my love for them and that they never stop kissing their momma.