I used to think mothering was difficult.
Dirty diapers. Muddy footprints. Hanging on to wiggly kids while they are desperately trying to reach the candy in the checkout line. Water all over the bathroom floor that might or might not be urine.
Back then mothering took work. Real, exhausting, thankless work.
But mothering is easy now because of you, son.
You refuse to read your homework book unless we are snuggled together first. I know I am loved.
You come to me with tears when someone says something unkind. I know I am important.
Your laughter burst out of you like it can’t be contained one second longer. I know I am funny.
You tell me my cooking is the best even when all I am fixing is boxed mac & cheese. I know I am appreciated.
And mothering is easy now because of you, daughter.
You tell me about the drama you see in middle school. I know I am a good listener.
You constantly think up new ways to make your own money. I know I taught you to value a dollar.
You are never without a book or two in your hand. I know I taught you the joy of reading and learning new things.
You get upset at teammates who talk smack about the other team. I know I taught you sportsmanship.
Mothering is still real. We deal with sibling fights that could rival MMA bouts. We deal with rooms that are so far beyond messy that I am tempted to don a hazmat suit before I enter.
Mothering is still exhausting. Planning and executing our schedule between church, school, clubs, and sports takes military-like precision. “You—get your baseball gear together. You—let the dog out. You—get those teeth brushed. You—practice your piano while you get dressed.”
Mothering is real and exhausting, but right now it is not thankless. My kids tell me in 100 ways how much they love, respect, and care for me. It is not always verbal. It is not always easily discernable. Sometimes I have to read between the lines, but their love for me is there.
It is there when they bring me a blanket because they know I am always cold. It is there when they share the chocolate they earned as a prize because they know I love it. It is there when they ask me to volunteer at their school or fix their hair so it looks nice. It is there when they ask me to bake their birthday cake or help them with homework.
You moms of teenagers are shaking your head and warning me, “Just wait. Things go downhill from here.” That may be true. Mothering may get thankless again. Mothering may get even more difficult than it was when my children were small. That just makes me want to be extra thankful for the blessing of mothering today—while it is easy.
