Truths and Lies: On Motherhood

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three kids on couch

Libbie wanted to make me breakfast for Mother’s Day. She’s 5, and not quite ready to operate the burners on the stove. Her grand idea for breakfast was to serve me a granola bar and applesauce, her favorite breakfast items. And have Daddy bring the coffee. Cause she knows Momma can’t live without the coffee.

I tell her I will love it, no matter what she makes.

Its crazy how, as a parent, things can be both true and untrue at the same time.

Do I love granola bars and applesauce? No, not really. Is it my idea of a perfect breakfast? Nope. But just like the homemade card she made me, the one with a corner randomly cut off and a strip of black construction paper with sticker placed inside it (?!), I love it in its imperfection. I love it because it’s a heart-gift, the one she thought of herself. If she brought me Belgian waffles with blueberries and whipped cream, I might like the taste of the breakfast better. But it wouldn’t be from her heart.

We are made in God’s image, and I think – like Him as a parent – we can generally spot an act done out of habit instead of heartfelt gratitude from a mile away.

The best part of my day was chomping down that granola bar and sipping the coffee. (Mr. V also brought me eggs instead of applesauce as well as strawberries Libbie cut herself.) After everyone ate, we all piled onto the queen-sized bed, giving hugs and giggling. The love for their mother, their love for life, poured out of three tiny kids.

A child jumping on me, shoving bony elbows into my stomach, somehow brings much more joy than a perfunctory good-night kiss. It’s capital L Love.

It hurts but it is good. It’s a truth but it’s a lie.

That’s motherhood.

Happy Mother’s Day.

{Last year I wrote In the Midst of the Mess. I think it’s a good one.}

2 thoughts on “Truths and Lies: On Motherhood

  1. My baby just turned 2, and I still think listening to him giggle is the best part of my day. My older son is 5, and he’s gotten sillier and more thoughtful at the same time. He’s so into art right now, and he takes every piece so seriously. It’s a joy to pick him up from preschool and see what he’s focused on in that day’s work. I’ve discovered, though, how difficult it is to be intentional with my children – to make myself focus on them and the things they’re saying – but at the same time, how very important that is to them.

    Being a mom is fascinating, but it’s the hardest, most emotionally taxing job I’ve ever known. They make it worth it, though.

    Thanks for this post.

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