Meaning of Motherhood

This was an essay contest for Parenting magazine. I am still not sure I am going to submit it but figured....HEY IT'S A BLOG! LOL


Well the meaning of motherhood carries different meanings depending on the time of day and who is being asked.

To my commander-in-chief: In her 2-year old eyes, Mommy is the all-knowing keeper of the Goldfish. I am the rescuer from the crib, the genie who takes the poopies away. I keep the boo-boos from hurting with my magic kisses. I can sing any Diego song known to man and I can make up a song to cure those tears on the spot. My make-believe stories are sub-par but as long as they contain animal sounds, they are golden. I rule the day with ‘night-nights’ and ‘nummies.’

To my partner-in-crime: I have an ultra-sensitive nose to poopy diapers. I can get naps accomplished within 5 minutes flat. I can make lunch, sing songs, feed the dog, and give time-outs while still dancing around the kitchen to entertain the masses. I am not always looking beautiful, not always happy, and usually tired but I appreciate all the help my partner contributes. And more than anything, I love the giggle in our daughters’ eyes when Daddy walks through the door.

To my co-workers: I endlessly sing children songs. As a healthcare worker, I can ease any little ones fears with my endless knowledge of Disney cartoons and songs. I am an intelligent member of my workforce, all the while humming Go, Diego, Go.

But most of all, I begin the run most mornings before 7am. Most mornings before I have coffee in hand—I have provided nutrition for the munchkin, loved on all our four-legged children, and read (or sped-read) a book. I get up exhausted before the day starts but all it takes is that exclamation of MOMMY when I walk through her door. I am instantly revived with every smile, giggle, new word, and “2-3-JUMP” that I hear. It’s probably not good that my little one relates Mom to a certain coffee shop with that green symbol---referred to as “fawffee” in my house. I am brought to tears knowing that one day soon, my little jumping bean will wake up saying “coffee”—she won’t eat crayons anymore—but I will still have magic in my kisses and a song on my lips!