Be patient with me as I learn to let you go.

I know it’s time. I know you’re growing and becoming and that sometimes it’s uncomfortable. Be patient with me because it’s not just you who is adjusting, my love. It’s me too.

I know it’s hard to understand, but hear me out.

I dreamed about you before you were a whisper or a reality. I dreamed of you when you were so tiny in my belly no one could see you, but me. I dreamed of you when I was bent over a toilet until there was nothing left. I dreamed of you while I laid on the couch telling Dad that yes, I was sure I needed fries ASAP and another episode of Lost. I dreamed of you and I treasured you as my belly made my pants tight and uncomfortable, as my legs swelled, and as my cheeks grew full and my dimples deeper. I dreamed of you on the sleepless nights holding my belly and counting contractions like the midwives told me I should. I dreamed of you as I gave my body over to something that was completely beyond my control.

I’d never felt such purpose and anticipation, my love.

I dreamed of you when the contractions radiated through my body and I knew this was it. I dreamed of you as I labored through a pain I didn’t know existed. In my heart I knew you were worth every breath, every pain, every push. I knew, because I was the one who carried you. I carried you in my womb, in my heart, and in my soul.

You were my dream before the world even knew you existed.

I dreamed of you as the hospital room became a war zone and I fought with all my strength for your entrance into the world.

And then you were on my chest, there you were, my dream; my reason, my heart. You were all my purpose in one tiny body, pressed against my soul.  Every second was worth it, every single second.

I never wanted to feel that pain again, but I also knew I’d do it a thousand times just to hold you in my arms. A mother’s love is unexplainable; it’s unreasonable; it’s undone. A mother’s love completely belongs to her children. There are no corridors of her heart that are off limits.

Every door is wide open for you; I am all yours.

And then you grew.

Every day I doubted myself. I struggled to become the woman who I felt you deserved. I wanted to give you the world, but my actions seemed to fall short.

I dreamed of your future as I spent sleepless nights with milk soaked sheets. I dreamed of you as you sat screaming at me from your timeout chair in the thick of your toddler years. I dreamed of you when I cried myself to sleep because I was sure I was doing it all wrong and I so badly wanted to get it all right. I dreamed of you when I snuggled your warm body after a bad dream. I dreamed of you when I held your hand and walked you to your first day of kindergarten. I dreamed of you as I watched you run onto the football field for the very first time.

Someday maybe you’ll see. Maybe you’ll hold your own baby on your chest for the very first time. Maybe your heart will shatter into a million pieces and be built again from scratch. A love like this is impossible to explain until you’ve had the chance to touch it.

These baby, these are the days I dreamed of. I dreamed of the person you’d become; I dreamed of seeing you fly. Please be patient with me my love, as I learn to let go and let you stretch your legs and use your voice. Be patient with me as I go through yet another transition and becoming.

You’re growing, and I am too.

You were my dream before the world got to share you. You were my dream before your very first breath.

Be patient with me as I unclench these fingers and loosen these hands that have held you. Be patient with me as I relax these arms that have carried you since the first day you breathed life. Be patient with me as I recognize that the time has come to do less protecting and holding and more listening and cheering.

I dreamed of you and here you are.

And still I dream.

I love you more than you will ever know.

Love,

Mama

***

For more like this can follow me (Jess of Wonderoak) here, on Facebook, and on Instagram. Thank you for stopping by!!

I can’t give you perfection, but I can give you all of me, without holding anything back.

I can give you my whole heart.

I can let you see me laugh and cry and everything in between.

I can admit when I’m wrong (even if it takes me awhile to realize sometimes).

I can hold you when everything seems to be falling apart.

I know I will disappoint you sometimes. I wish that wasn’t the case, but it is.

I will hurt your feelings. I will snap when I should be kind. I will be hard on you when you need softness. I know that I will, (I have already).

I will let you down. More than I’d like to admit.

I can’t give you perfection, dear one, but…

I can listen when I realize I’ve hurt you. I can apologize and do my best to do better the next time.

I can be your safe place when you mess up (again) and believe me, you will mess up a lot.  We all mess up a lot, my love.

My eggs are often overcooked and I always burn the toast, but I will give you enough to grow and think and dream. It will be enough to be an astronaut or a lawyer or an artist.

I am messy and disorganized and I forget to sign your school papers.

I’m fiery and sometimes I react before I think it through.

I’m grumpy, tired, and stressed more than I’d like to be.

I can’t give you perfection, not even close…

But I can give you room and space to feel your emotions too.

I can give you my listening ear to hear your stories, your fears, your struggles, and your dreams.

I can give you my best and my bravest. I will never stop loving you or striving to do better by you. You are my treasure, my star, my firework.

My heart is yours, forever and for always.

I will partner with you and stand by you through every hardship, and through every milestone.

I won’t be perfect, but I will be present.

Despite how I fail, I pray that you will know how widely and deeply and safely YOU ARE LOVED. The thing is, dear one, I can’t ever give you perfection, but I don’t expect perfection from you either.

Feel free to make a mess and to make mistakes. I will be right here by you. I have lots of experience with messes and we are in this together;

Every. Single. Step. Of. The. Way.

Love,

Mama

***

This pic is compliments of my amazing friend Liz. You can follow her sweet lifestyle blog on Insta &Facebook.

For more words like this, you can follow me here, on Facebook, and on Instagram.

I’m so sorry I mouthed.

“You are totally fine!” She smiled encouragingly. A minute later a woman and her older daughter walked by and said, “You’ve got this mama! You’re doing a great job!”

I continued on as a human straight jacket.

I don’t find myself in these positions as much as I used to, and today my sanity stayed intact. It was partly due to the kindness of strangers cheering in my court, and it was partly because I’d already finished a double espresso on ice.

My friend said she broke into a cold sweat on my behalf though.

When the other kids got home from school they were like wild, feral children. They hollered and beat their chests and jumped on furniture like they’d never been in a house before.  I shooshed them and admonished them to pleasefortheloveofgodcalmdown. It didn’t really work by the way, but we survived.

Even so, as we sat around the dinner table tonight and I looked at each of their faces, I had one of those moments where my heart was filled with gratitude.

Even though my life is notably crazy.

Even though they are wild, feral, opinionated, obnoxious, and exhausting.

I remembered why I do this. The world stopped spinning in chaos and I forgot all about my mental list of to-dos. I stopped and I saw. I watched them while they told their stories and ate their pasta. I laughed when they giggled hysterically at their own jokes.

I remembered why I chose a life of absolute insanity, instead of one where my hair is washed and my pants smell nice. I remembered why I choose to live a life of constantly repeating instructions and dragging children off of playground equipment they do not want to leave. I remembered why I don’t mind that my kids are bottomless pits forever asking for snacks.

I didn’t choose them because it would be easy, I chose them because I wanted to give my heart away to something that mattered.

I have given it away, and I never want it back.

It doesn’t really matter if I spend ten minutes hostage on a bench in public. It doesn’t really matter if I spend an afternoon corralling them like wild buffalo.

Sometimes the moments where I truly “see” are few and far between. Sometimes I find myself caught in survival and simply breathing through a tantrum so I don’t start screaming too. That’s normal, I think. I don’t think there is anything wrong with feeling the pain of the life we choose. It isn’t always easy and it requires all of our strength. It requires that we show up again and again and again. It requires that we see our own flaws in the plain light of day and it is hard sometimes.

I think it’s healthy to share the struggle, because make no mistake…it IS a struggle. Pretending it’s something we can “enjoy every second of” isn’t helpful for anyone and acknowledging the struggle doesn’t make our joy or our gratitude any less.

I am so grateful to have so many moments that I do enjoy with all of my heart, and I am so grateful for the rest of it because it is all so very worth it.

I wish I could squeeze time into a bottle and save it forever.

They smell like sunshine and wild air. They are so very precious.

I chose this life, I choose it, and I will keep choosing it from now until forever.

So, my friend, whether you are having a moment of nostalgia or a moment of surviving you’re doing it right. We all have both. I am cheering you on from the sidelines…just like those ladies did for me today.

***

Jess Johnston writes about motherhood and keepin’ it real here at wonderoak.com, on Facebook, and on Instagram.

Photo by the hubs @grahamsjohnston.

In our family we fight. We argue about things. We say we’re sorry. We overreact and then we apologize. We take a minute in the other room to pull ourselves together. Some of us are more full of passion than others, and I take full ownership of my title as Queen.

In our family we spill milk and we break glasses almost every time we do the dishes. When we do art projects, they take over entire rooms and dining tables. We do a lot of doing first and thinking later.

In our family we make mistakes. We hurt each other’s feelings and we are selfish sometimes. We say sorry and we forgive. We pull each other close and we love each other still.

In our family we encourage each other loudly and often; we are each other’s biggest fans.

In our family we get tired and grumpy. Sometimes we all feel that way at the same time, and that is when it is a good idea to have a family movie night and eat pizza.

In our family we worry. My husband and I get stressed about finances or jobs and we get needlessly defensive and snappy with each other. We talk, and then we hug, and we remember that no matter what may come, we are up for the task and we are walking through it together.

In our family we do beach days, reading in front of the fire, and toasts with wine and sparkling cider.

In our family we know we can’t control the future, but sometimes we try anyway.

In our family we love each other forever and ever and no matter what.

What if the miracle of family isn’t the perfect storybook fantasy we’ve been told? What if it isn’t a home of poised parenting and dust-free light fixtures? What if it isn’t a mom who never loses her cool and doesn’t mind crafts that involve scissors and glitter? It could be that, but it isn’t always that.

What if the miracle of family is what we already have?

What if it’s just us, exactly as we are today?

What if I, their mom, am exactly who I’m supposed to be…already? What if I’m actually damn good at this even when I feel like I’m not? What if even though I say the wrong the things sometimes, the thing that actually matters is that my heart burns and bleeds for them? My heart bleeds for them and my mind works for them…endless hours of worry and problem solving.

If they could see me inside-out they would never for a second doubt my love or doubt how amazing they are.

My job as mom is to show them my insides as much as I possibly can.

I’m never going to be a mom who knows where the socks are or talks softly when I’m mad.

But I am me and I will show up every day with my whole heart.

I will always say sorry when I get it wrong and I will always hug tight and hard and maybe too long.

What if the miracle of family is that it’s really really messy, but that’s what makes it beautiful? What if there isn’t a perfect personality for motherhood, but all of us are in fact just right for our own kids?

What if what often steals our joy is that we don’t feel like we are the “mother” we are supposed to be? We constantly feel like we need to work on this and work on that…and what if THAT is actually the filthiest lie of all?

What if we are okay exactly how we are, just like our kids are okay exactly as they are?

Whoever you are today, I salute you. WE ARE MOMS. WE ARE WHAT MOTHERHOOD IS “SUPPOSED” TO LOOK LIKE and our families are what family is supposed to look like.

If we love our kids then we are 99.9 percent already there.

Whether you are a working mom, a traveling mom, a stay-at-home mom, a baby wearing mom, a natural mom, a sensitive mom, a doesntputupwithanyshit mom, a not very maternal mom… IT DOESN’T MATTER…it doesn’t define us, we define IT.

We are good moms.

We have beautiful families.

XOXOX

Wonderoak

*

——–> You can follow Jess here, on Facebook, and Instagram <——-

Right now as I watch you sleep, I lean in so close I can feel your breath against my cheek. I think about the good moments today. I think about you touching my arm and telling me a story about a slug that you found by the water. I grin to myself alone in the dark. I think about our conversations and I realize how grown up you’re becoming. How did it happen so fast?

You are perfect laying there so still; my heart swells like it might burst. Motherhood has  made me so strong and so fragile at the same time. Since the day you were born I’ve worn my heart on the outside of my body. Everyday I fight against the urge to lasso the world and make it tame for you. I wish I could keep you in a bubble.

I wish I could keep you safe here with me forever, but I will use all my strength and I will give you wings instead my love; then I will cry the day you use them.

You are growing up and sometimes I still see you as little. That’s frustrating for you I know. I don’t trust you even though it’s time. I see it, but it can’t be. It was only one second ago that you crawled in my bed in the morning with just your diaper and we’d snuggle until the sun came up. It was only one second ago that you were sitting in your carseat behind me mimicking some choice words I shouted at traffic.

It was only one second ago that I had a tiny crew and no one was taller than my waist; It was only one second ago.

Everyone warned me of how fast it goes, but it didn’t make me ready.

I am often caught up in the busyness. A mess in the kitchen, an email I haven’t written yet, and a car that looks like a hurricane of crackers and juice ravaged the upholstery. There are meals to make, mountains of laundry to do, blankets needing to be soaked from a bloody nose last night…and there is the constant inner struggle with feeling like it’s too much, I can’t catch up. 

I don’t want to miss any moments with you, but I do.

As I look at you beneath the blankets I wonder how it is possible your legs are so long and your arms so lanky. We bought you deodorant the other day and you need it more than I do. When I think about the times to come I feel excited, but so so scared. I know I’m going to close my eyes for a moment and my time with you will be coming to a close.

I can’t even handle the thought, so I don’t think.

I reach out and squeeze your hand.

I understand that book now. I understand why an old lady would sneak into her son’s room at night.

I love you forever, I’ll like you for always, as long as I’m living my baby you’ll be. 

As long as I’m living I will remember you curled up on my chest. As long as I’m living I will cherish the moments of your chubby hand in mine. As long as I’m living…

I know you won’t understand until you have your own kids someday, and that’s okay. I didn’t understand either.

It is the greatest honor of my life to be your mom. You are truly a treasure that I’ve been entrusted with and I will never be the same. Your heart is so soft and tender, your eyes are bright and kind. You forgive me faster and love me harder than anyone I’ve ever met.

I’ve have been raised by raising you, and I am so grateful.

Please stop growing; please keep growing.

Motherhood is constant grief and constant joy. It’s so much anticipation and so much letting go.

I love you forever and for always,

Mama

*Love You Forever, by Robert N. Munsch

For more like this you can follow me here on Wonderoak, like my page on Facebook, and follow Wonderoak Blog on Instagram!

Yesterday you asked me why your older brother always gets to choose. We were staying in a vacation rental and I’d given him the choice of beds since he’s the tallest and the most likely to be uncomfortable. “He’s always going to be older,” you said, “so he’s always going to choose.” You imitated me in a perfected ‘mom voice’; “‘Malachi gets to choose because he’s ten’; pretty soon it’s going to be, ‘Malachi gets to choose because he’s eleven;'” you laughed and I laughed, but I understood that your question was real and you felt something deeper than you let on.

I also understood that I was guilty as charged.

Sometimes I don’t see that you get lost in the shuffle between oldest and youngest. I miss it, and I’m so sorry.

You’re big, but you’re not the biggest. You’re little, but you’re not the littlest. You’re strong, but you’re not the strongest. You don’t know the most about math or reading. You can’t run the fastest or stay up the latest. Someday that will change, but for now this is your truth. Sometimes I think that is a lonely truth for you.

You little sisters are handfuls in their own right. They still need us to brush their teeth and roll their salad into a tiny ball to help them eat it. You don’t need that much help anymore, but you still need some.

You’re older brother is becoming a pre-teen; his body odor and the rules for him are changing. As he grows and changes, I can see that you feel a little left behind. You want to keep up, but it’s not quite time.

You are in the middle: “not there anymore” and “not quite there”.

And that son, is right where you belong.

Let me tell you something, let me set the record straight from now until forever:

YOU ARE SPECIAL.

YOU ARE UNIQUE.

YOU ARE SO SO VERY IMPORTANT TO US.

No one else on the planet could fill the place in our hearts that belongs to you. We will never give it away and we will never share it with someone else. That space is for you and for you alone.

It doesn’t matter to us if you’re the strongest or the fastest or if you know more things than your older brother or your younger sister. We love you for you. You don’t need to hurry to catch up, or try and slow down. You are special to us because you are you and you belong right exactly where you are.

We love you, we love you, we love you.

There’s never been someone like you before, and there will never be someone like you again. This family wouldn’t, couldn’t, be the same without you. You are the core, you are the rhythm, you are the piece of upmost importance.

You have a fabulous heart and kind intentions. You have the best sense of humor and you are the protector of those you love. You are an observer and you notice things the rest of us never would. You are diligent about justice and fairness. You are quick on your feet and keen in your observations. You aren’t loud. You choose your words, you think deeply, and when you speak it matters.

I’m sorry, Son, that sometimes you feel lost in the shuffle. I’m sorry that you sometimes wonder where you fit and if you belong. I’m so sorry that sometimes you notice that your vote and your voice don’t seem to matter as much. That’s my fault and I will work on it.

I’m learning Son, thank you for teaching me.

You may not be the tallest or the oldest, but next time we stay in a vacation rental I want you to choose.

Love,

Mama

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Today we had many battles you and I. We had battles in the sun, battles in the sand, battles over popsicles, and a battle while I walked you screaming and kicking back to the house. You were red and fuming, I fought back tears. We’ve had thousands of battles you and I.

Today our battles were about little kid things, someday they might be about curfew or boys or doing the dishes.

No matter what, here’s what I want you to know:

We are not defined by these battles. We are not defined by the storms, we are defined by the times I hold you tight and by the I love you’s and the kisses.  We aren’t defined by hard days or hard moments, we are defined by the fact that I love you and I will never stop. We are defined by the truth that I will never ever give up on, or grow tired of you. You are mine forever and for always.

Those moments though they’re hard and unnerving, there’s no where I’d rather be.

Yes, sometimes inside I’m fuming. I wonder how it is possible we’ve done this this so many times before. I’m embarrassed, I’m tired, and I wonder if I were better at being your mom if we wouldn’t have blow ups like this.

Sometimes I simply wilt under the disapproving glances of strangers.

In my heart though? I’d do it all a million times again, my dear. I’d carry you up a hundred more flights of stairs while you’re kicking and screaming and I’d abandon a thousand more carts in Target to take you to the car.

I choose you, in all your sweaty, screaming, kicking, fuming, glory.

A lot of the time I’m stuck in now, I just want you to hold my hand to cross the street and say “okay Mama” when I say “no”. Sometimes I’m simply too tired and worn out to remember my joy, but I look at you now perched on the counter eating a slice a bread and I smile.

I like you; I like your strong will.

You aren’t the kind to be deterred by one or a million consequences. Your voice is vibrant and sometimes I believe it really can’t be swallowed. That’s okay. Someday you will channel that strength into something that matters deeply to your heart.

We have all the time in the world to figure that out.

Some people might call you hard or difficult (I do too sometimes). Some people might wonder where I find my grace every day…but they don’t see what I see. They don’t know that out of sea of well behaved children I’d choose you again and again and again.

After a tantrum I hold you. We snuggle in your bed and you ask me to sing a song. I breath deep because you smell like sunshine. You’re worth every single battle today, and every single one tomorrow.

I love you.

Mama

***

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Look into my eyes and let me tell you, there are no limits.

When I was young, I felt small in a large world. I was desperate to belong, so I tried to fit in. I tried to reduce myself to a puzzle piece in a giant picture. I tried to have straight edges and to not take up too much room.

The problem is I wasn’t made to fit. I was meant to live large and free and uninhibited. We all were. It took me a long time to realize that; it took me a long time to set myself free.

I hope that isn’t the same for you, dear one. I hope you burn fierce, burn loud, burn wild, burn bright. I hope you’re unapologetic about the fire that’s inside you.

Here are a few things I want you to know that I wish I’d know earlier:

1. It’s okay to break the rules. Break all the rules of being “a girl”.  No one gets to tell you what being a woman is except for you. You do it your way. Sing the song that’s inside you.  Right now you are wild and untamed. Your hair dances around your face like a lion’s mane and everything you do is rambunctious, loud, and unashamed.

If you come up against rules that say you shouldn’t, that you shouldn’t be fierce or wild or strong; break them, and break them with all your heart.

2. You are you are you. When I look into your eyes, I can’t help but see some of myself. I see a little of  dad and some of grandma, but mostly I see YOU. I see someone new, someone the world has never seen before. While you are a collaboration of characters, you are mostly and uniquely yourself. Your story is not my story. Your story is is no one’s but yours.

Own your own magic and own it fiercely.

3.You are enough. You, my dear one, are more than enough. It isn’t different on a day you get a bad grade or you make a terrible decision. It can’t be lost on a morning when you wake up with bags under your eyes or are so grumpy no one wants to be around you.

It is unmovable; it’s unshakable.

YOU ARE ENOUGH. Always. Forever. No mistake you make or bad haircut you get can change that, not ever.

Believe me, you will make mistakes and you will get bad haircuts.

4.Be loud. Shriek for joy if you want to. Laugh at the world until it laughs back.  You can be soft spoken when you want…it’s also okay to roar loud enough to shake the ground.

5.Things will not be perfect. Life will bring disappointments. There will be struggles, there will people who say hurtful things, there will be lies that try to consume you. There will be teachers that just don’t get it, there will be friends who go behind your back, there will be people who are unkind.

That’s not your fault. You didn’t do something wrong to deserve it. It’s just life.

When that happens remember, you are loved, you are wonderful, you are enough. It will still hurt, but it won’t hurt forever.

6. You’ve got what it takes. You are brave enough. You are strong enough. You are okay enough. You will come out the other side, and you will be better than you were before.

7. It’s good to enjoy life. Let loose sometimes. Eat the good food. Go skinny dipping. Try something you’ve never tried. Embrace life with creative abandon. Self discipline is good, but don’t forget to run through the grass and scream at the top of your lungs.

8. You can’t change my heart towards you. It’s not possible. I’ve been my worst self too. I promise to love you through every shade of struggle.

I will walk through every mistake, every mess, every mile with you and then I will do it a thousand times again. This life is messy and all the lines are fuzzy and unclear. No matter what, I am PROUD to be your mom.

Right now your face is bright, and you laugh in a way that sets the world on fire and washes it clean all at the same time.

I hope you stay that way. I hope you stay that way forever.

Love,

Mama

Check out wonderoak’s new mommy and me fierce girls clothing line at Teespring.com/wonderoak .

For more like this you can follow me here on Wonderoak, like my page on Facebook, and follow Wonderoak Blog on Instagram!

Never have I been so inspired to step up to the plate – to be all that I am and more. Within the first hours of that twilight zone called motherhood, I realized that my reality had been completely changed. I wasn’t sure if I had what it takes.

The nurses shipped us off with a smile and a bag of diaper cream samples, and Graham I looked at each other and we understood. We were nervous, we were uncomfortable, and we were scared. We both tried to pretend we knew how to be grown ups, except we didn’t feel grown up.

I felt like a kid playing house. I still do sometimes.

It turns out parents aren’t all that special. We haven’t been imparted with the wisdom of the ages; we didn’t grow up in a moment. We are just some scared people who were called up to bat for the very first time and not showing up wasn’t an option.

That first night home I sat cross legged in my dark room as my boy screamed and tears streamed down my face. My new enormous boobs and I tried to figure out how to feed a baby. At one in the morning I called the nurses sobbing. Gently they told me to bring baby to breast and it worked. I wanted to ask if I could come back please, but I didn’t. I didn’t because I guessed that was against the rules of motherhood.

My deepest fear was that I would mess it up. My ache was that I already knew that I would. Again and again and again. But still I knew I would show up. I would take the bat, I’d plant my feet, and I’d look at my kids and say this is for you. I will learn this FOR YOU. Although it isn’t perfect and I wasn’t born with all the skills, I will still show up and give it my best. And I will get better with time.

I had two babies, and then I lost two. That’s when the lights went out. That’s when darkness came. I was devastated and I didn’t think that the sun would rise again. But it did. Somehow it did.  Even though my time with them was brief they changed me. They taught me about love and loss and that it is truly better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.

Every child has changed me, every one has pushed me higher, and because of them I will keep going high. Because of them I know that there’s a reason to not stoop low.

When I had my third and fourth healthy babies, something sacred had happened. I wasn’t the same as I had been two miscarriages ago. My loss had pushed my love deeper. I held them tighter. I understood to a greater level what an honor and a gift it is to hold the future in your arms.

Every day I am called up to be more than I already am. I am just one extremely normal person, but these are my chosen ones and they are worth every ounce of drive that I possess. They are worth my yes.

I can’t stop and I won’t stop.

Not ever.

I will bat after a streak of misses, and have thousands of apologies for making mistakes. I will be there the next day. Wounded, but fierce because I’ve never had anything that called me the way that they do.

The thing is that motherhood did slow me down. Maybe I would have traveled more before this, maybe my writing career would have been further. Maybe I would have gone to college and have been more educated that I am today. Maybe our house would be bigger, and our cars with less crumbs and stains. Maybe Graham and I would have had more uninterrupted conversations and we’d have gone on more fancy dates.

But nothing in all the world is worth what they have taught me. Nothing in all the world is worth how my heart has been broken and expanded to six times its size. Because of them I understand a love that might crush me. Because of them I know that when life insists that I grow and be more, that I can and I am able. Because of them, I understand what it means to live for something more than just myself.

So this decision? This decision to have them and to tie myself down? This decision has been the greatest education and the greatest honor of my life.

I am changed.

Motherhood has changed me.

And to them, my loves, I am eternally grateful.

For more like this you can follow me here on Wonderoak, like my page on Facebook, and follow @wonderoakblog on Instagram! Photo credit belongs to my amazing husband @grahamsjohnston.

Sometimes I wake up in the morning and I see that you’ve grown over night. Your face is more defined, your eyes look older. A part of me is excited and in awe; I know you have so much ahead of you. Another part is scared because time is racing and I can’t slow it down. I’m afraid that I haven’t always been awake and noticing, and that somehow I have slept through the magic of your growing. I wonder, have I enjoyed you enough? Have I given you what you needed? Is your heart still whole? Is your spirit unbroken?

I’m not always good at this. I’m not always as good as I want to be at being your mom. I want to be great; and sometimes I am, but sometimes I’m not.

Sometimes I get it, and sometimes I don’t.

Sometimes I do it right, and sometimes I completely miss it.

Everyday I make mistakes.

Sometimes I snap when I should be sensitive. Sometimes I lecture and give chores when what you needed was a hug. Sometimes I completely and utterly miss it. I know that I do. I mistake your pain for complaining or your sad heart for a bad attitude. I watch myself miss it, and later I grieve that I didn’t respond differently.

I miss it when I am tired, and you get my leftovers at the end of a long day. I wish that you didn’t, but sometimes you do.

I miss it when I am scared. I am scared of big things and little things. I really thought adults had it all figured out, but I am one now, and it turns out we don’t. Sometimes fear snatches my heart and I can’t seem to think of anything else. I forget to relax and to enjoy you. I forget to smile and to laugh. I’m working on that.

I miss it when I am lost. I’m struggling with my own demons and it has nothing to do with you. Sometimes it’s anxiety or it’s depression, but it’s never, ever your fault. I will keep striving for wholeness so that when you reach those obstacles I can help you do the same.

I know that it is easy to hang on to the negative things and forget all the positive, but I want to set the record straight. When I look at you I am SO. PROUD. When I look at you I see good. I see someone who is mighty. I wonder how I have been trusted with such a treasure. Your heart is pure and soft. You are gentle and kind, you are vivacious and fierce.

I am forever your biggest cheerleader and your greatest fan.

Please keep helping me to see you and to know you. Keep telling me when I hurt your feelings. Keep sharing with me your fears and your insecurities and we will figure it out together.

I’m okay with making mistakes, but I’m never okay with losing your heart. Your heart is what matters to me.

I hope that my weakness teaches you something. I hope that when you come upon your own brokenness, tiredness, fear, and confusion, that you will be okay with it. I pray that your imperfections won’t scare you as they have me. I pray that you won’t run from them, but that you’ll wrestle with them and you will keep showing up, saying sorry, and trying again.

We don’t always get it right and that’s okay.

We are all professional mistake makers, and you will make lots and lots of mistakes. You will make countless amounts of mistakes, just like I have, but not one could darken the light I see when I look at you. You are my treasure, you are my reason.

Even though life is racing by, sometimes we have a moment. Sometimes we can reach out, grab time, and hold it. The world stops, all is quiet, and we really see each other. In this moment when I glimpse the person you are and who you’re becoming, all I can think is…

Wow.

On this morning, where it seems you’ve grown overnight, I want to tell you that you are wonderful. You amaze me everyday – and as I watch you, you inspire me. You inspire me to pull out the greatness that’s inside me. In this family we will make mistakes, but we will keep doing it together and we will keep holding each other other tight.

It turns out I’m never, ever, going to be perfect, but I am always and forever yours, and I’m always and forever on your team. That I can promise you.

I love you.

Love,

Mama

Written by Jess Johnston

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