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Motherhood is in the Moments
It was just another typical evening. After work, I rounded up my three energetic boys and ushered them into the house, tackling their wild requests like a barista serving coffee on a Monday morning. We played a bit, I attempted to serve them “dinner” (which, let’s be honest, was frozen cheese-filled pretzel bites—call me a culinary genius), and then we squeezed in some more playtime.
As usual, I tried to dodge the nightly chaos that begins around 8 p.m. You know the drill—when kids sense bedtime is approaching, and suddenly it’s like a scene from a circus. They strip down to their underwear, dart around the house, and scream with delight, slapping each other playfully. Is that just my crew, or do yours do it too?
Anyway, after a little wrangling, I managed to get them upstairs for bath time. The cleaning process for three little bodies and three sets of teeth felt more like an aquatic performance by a family of whales than a simple scrub-down. Soaked and worn out, we shuffled into their bedroom, where dressing them felt more like wrestling pigs than prepping for bed, but somehow we made it.
It was an ordinary night—until it wasn’t. While I was getting two of my boys dressed, my youngest decided to pee all over the bed and then slap his own bottom while the others erupted in laughter like they were at a comedy show. After a quick change of sheets and a little clean-up, I finally got everyone settled and took a deep breath.
Then came book time, prayers, tucking them in, a flurry of kisses, and a chorus of “night night, I love yous.” Lights out, and I thought I was finally free! But just as I sank into my bed, my youngest started wailing. He’s approaching two, so I’ve learned to wait a bit before rushing in at the slightest sound.
A few minutes passed, and the crying didn’t stop. I grumbled my way out of bed, half-asleep. When I reached him, there he was, lying on his back, sleep-crying. Nothing was wrong; he was just fighting sleep. I gently placed my hands on his cheeks to comfort him, and almost immediately, he closed his eyes and quieted down.
Every time I thought about moving, his eyes would flicker open, and he’d begin to whimper again. So, I stayed there, hands on his face for about five minutes until I felt he was truly asleep. And that was the moment.
The moment I unwound from the chaos of the day. The moment I remembered why I’m here. The moment all the energy I poured out came rushing back to me.
Motherhood can be downright exhausting. It tests our limits and sometimes pushes us to our breaking point. But then there are those magical moments when everything falls into place, and you realize that all the craziness and effort is for these little treasures.
Sometimes, it’s found in those serene moments—leaning over your child’s bed, holding their cheeks until they drift off. It’s in knowing that your touch brings them comfort and security. All the noise and chaos? It’s all worth it for these moments.
It’s easy to get lost in the whirlwind of motherhood and life itself. We often want to rush through it all because we’re tired and overwhelmed. But in that moment with my aching back and my hands on my son’s soft cheeks—those cheeks that will one day grow into something rugged—I felt grateful. Motherhood is a wondrous experience.
What a privilege to be the one who soothes my son to sleep with just a touch. What an honor to be the one he calls for in the night. And how precious it is to share those extra kisses and “I love yous” every night.
Parenting is no walk in the park. But wow, is it rewarding. It may seem like an ordinary night, but it reminds me that motherhood is anything but average. It’s extraordinary, and every little thing we do matters to our kids.
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Summary
Motherhood can be exhausting, but it’s filled with extraordinary moments that remind us of our purpose. From chaotic evenings with playful children to those serene moments of comfort, it’s a journey worth every effort.