Ah, motherhood – the only job where you’re essentially a human submarine for 9 months, followed by becoming a 24/7 combination of chef, chauffeur, nurse, and professional negotiator with someone who thinks bedtime is optional.
They say a mother carries you for 9 months in her belly, three years in her arms, and forever in her heart. But let me tell you what they don’t mention in the brochure: those 9 months feel more like 9 decades when your little tenant decides 3 AM is the perfect time for kickboxing practice.
And those three years of carrying? They conveniently forget to mention that it’s not just carrying – it’s carrying while simultaneously making dinner, answering work emails, and performing Olympic-level gymnastics to prevent your toddler from turning your living room into their personal parkour studio.
The physical demands are just the beginning. One day you’re a normal person enjoying a peaceful cup of coffee, and the next, you’re someone who can change a diaper in complete darkness while half-asleep, using nothing but muscle memory and what can only be described as mom-superpowers.
Speaking of superpowers, becoming a mother suddenly gives you the ability to hear a pin drop from three rooms away while sleeping, but somehow, you become completely deaf to your spouse asking what’s for dinner. Funny how that works, isn’t it?
The heart part, though – that’s where the real magic happens. It’s where you discover that your heart can simultaneously burst with pride because your child learned to write their name, and sink with horror because they wrote it on the wall. In permanent marker. During a video call with your boss.
No one warns you about how motherhood transforms you into a walking contradiction. You’ll spend hours watching them sleep, marveling at their peaceful beauty, only to silently plead with them to please, for the love of all things holy, actually sleep when it’s bedtime.
Every mother becomes fluent in what I call “Mom Mathematics.” It’s where you somehow divide your attention between multiple children, multiply your patience, subtract hours of sleep, and still add love to every situation. The formula doesn’t make sense on paper, but somehow it works.
And let’s talk about the heart storage capacity. Somehow, your heart expands to hold every tiny moment: the first smile, the wobbly steps, the tear-stained cheeks, the triumphant victories, and even the spectacular failures. It’s like having unlimited cloud storage, but for emotions.
Then comes that bittersweet moment when your little toddler isn’t so little anymore. When they’re standing there, ready to take on the world, and your heart swells with a pride so intense it feels like it might burst. You watch them pack for college, or walk down the aisle, or hold their own baby, and suddenly you’re wondering how that tiny person who once couldn’t pronounce “spaghetti” became this amazing adult before your eyes.
The truth is, being a mother is the only job where you celebrate someone else growing up while simultaneously wishing they could stay small forever. It’s wanting them to spread their wings while secretly hoping they’ll always fly back to your nest.
So here’s to all the mothers out there – the submarine operators, the human jungle gyms, the heart-expanders, and the love-multipliers. We may carry our children for only a fraction of their lives in our arms, but we’ll carry them in our hearts until the end of time.
Just remember, somewhere out there, there’s a mother cleaning squished banana off her business casual while practicing her “I’ve got it all together” smile for the parent-teacher conference. And she’s absolutely crushing it – probably.
Because that’s what mothers do. We carry on, carry through, and carry forever – even if sometimes what we’re carrying is a screaming toddler under one arm and the last shreds of our sanity under the other.
And we wouldn’t have it any other way.
To all the mothers reading this,
Whether you’re in the trenches of toddlerhood, navigating the teenage years, or watching your adult children build their own nests – remember that you’re doing an incredible job. For those still in the season of sticky fingers and bedtime stories, the days are long but the years are short. And for those watching their children soar into their own adventures, your heart may be walking around outside your body, but it’s growing stronger with every step they take.
To those about to embark on this wild journey of motherhood – buckle up! It’s the most beautiful roller coaster you’ll ever ride. And to the seasoned moms who could write their own volumes of memories and mishaps – thank you for paving the way and showing us that it’s perfectly okay to not be perfect.
Remember, there’s no such thing as a perfect mother, but there are millions of perfectly imperfect ones doing their best every single day. And that includes you.
Keep loving, keep laughing, and keep carrying those precious hearts in yours – even when they’re taller than you and rolling their eyes at your dad jokes.
Until next time, Innersoulwhisp
P.S. If you’re reading this while hiding in the bathroom for five minutes of peace – I see you, and yes, you definitely deserve that secret chocolate bar in your drawer.