my motherhood

I was cleaning house the other day — the muddy boots in the entryway, the stained T-shirts in the laundry, the bath toys to pick up, backpacks to put away— and it started me thinking: this is their childhood.

In a moment where I was flustered, rushing, and felt like there was a mile long to do list. I found peace and happiness in an otherwise ordinary moment.

These everyday moments — the ones I sometimes rush through (apologetically), the ones I sometimes groan over (remorsefully) — they are parts and pieces of core memories that my children are forming every day. Ones they will cherish for a lifetime.

And then a much deeper thought followed, gently but more powerfully: their childhood is also my motherhood.

Their messy rain gear and sleepy snuggles.

Their endless questions and wild adventures.

The crumbs under my kitchen table that 5 generations have sat around, rocking them to sleep, the tears from scraped knees.

This isn’t JUST their childhood — this is also MY season of being a mother.

It’s easy to think of motherhood as something I do for them. I feed, guide, protect, teach, clean, pray, worry, and love. But what I sometimes forget is that this season is not just shaping them — it’s shaping me. We’re both on the potters wheel through this chapter of life. Being shaped, molded, reworked, and carefully designed by Him. God put their childhood in my hands and they are the ones writing the story of my motherhood.

My greatest achievement in life will be the day when they look back at these years and remember a mom who showed up.

A mom who didn’t always get it right, but always cared.

A mom whose tired arms always held them close and tight.

A mom who made peanut butter sandwiches day after day and tucked it into a lunch box with a sweet note to encourage them through their day.

A mom who said “I love you” a hundred different ways — even when she was pouring from an empty cup (and running on 3 cups of coffee).

And when I look back, I will always remember their childhood not just as a phase they grew out of — but as the most defining chapter of my entire life.

My motherhood lies in their deep belly laughs while playing with Dad , their imaginations telling me intricate stories, the way they are empathetic and wise beyond than their years, and their blossoming faith.

In every scraped elbow I kissed, in every birthday cake I made from scratch, in every bedtime prayer I spoke over their sleepy heads. Followed by my 4 year olds gentle whispered, Amen.

My motherhood is not separate from their childhood.

And their childhood is my legacy.

This realization has humbled me. It slows me down day after day. It makes me look at the ‘normal’ moments with a new point of view.

Because one day, when we both look back.

I want to be able to say: I was there. I saw it. And I didn’t miss a single moment.

I will be fully alive and present in my motherhood, and in doing so, I will give them a childhood full of grace, warmth, and unconditional relentless love.