Mother's Day

“When I was younger I was so full of expectations for myself, and was utterly unafraid to demand that those expectations be met. While I am still unabashed in my expectations of others and when it comes to responsibility and being a mother, myself as well, I find that I no longer expect myself to be happy, beautiful or excited about any of it. There was a time when I expected myself to not only succeed in everything I did to the highest extent, but to do it with style. Now I just try to get my teeth brushed every day.

When did the ideas of mother and beautiful become mutually exclusive in my mind? Why can’t I celebrate my happiness in being a mother on Mother’s Day instead of only that which I’ve sacrificed? Mother’s Day has almost turned into a day to glorify the martyrs of motherhood instead of a day to celebrate the being of mother.

I want to celebrate my ability to grow, carry and birth a new life. I want to celebrate my ability to soothe with song and breast in the middle of the night. I want to celebrate my ability to guide with strong voice and body. I want to celebrate the gift of my children and what they’ve given me.

I want to look in the mirror on Mother’s Day and think, celebrate yourself you beautiful mama. And then I want to believe it.”

I wrote this two years ago on Mother’s Day. And I spent today mostly on the couch watching movies and playing with the kids as they ambled in and out of the family room. They spent most of the day outside with their Dad working in the yard and riding bikes. And I’ve been thinking about this piece of writing from two years ago. Wondering how and if I’m different now.

I’ve been working on re-building the bridge between my own brand of beauty and my identity as a mother. It spent about 18 months in the planning stages, but was put on an accelerated construction plan and it’s almost done. The bolts are being tightened and the belief is coming into focus.

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