I have been nominated for the Gratitude Challenge by the lovely @trucklife-family who is one of my most favorite people on all of steemit. If you haven’t checked out her posts, you are so missing out. She is an incredibly heart-filled, loving mama who is all about encouraging us to love and appreciate ourselves and our amazing, beautiful bodies. Yes, I’m going to keep that paragraph for all seven days!

I took a two day break to post on ecoTrain and tribesteemup question. Even one post a day is a stretch. All y’all posting two or three posts a day have somehow petitioned the universe for extra hours in the day. I am absolutely certain of it. ANYWAY!

On day one of the challenge I talked about my Glad Heart list that I add to every day with things that make my heart glad. Rarely a day goes by that I don’t mention some general or specific gratitude for one or more of my children or just for the unimaginable privilege of being a mom.

I am so profoundly glad to be a mom. It is without a question the most love-filled and also incredibly challenging part of my life.

I mean, really, though, how could anyone not love these pumpkin butts?!

I knew when I was a young girl that I wanted to have children. There was never any question for me. I did what was expected of me and went to college. After graduation I came to Belize to start my life here. That shit didn’t work out, but then again, I guess it did, but I certainly didn’t get to stay here in Belize. I had a degree in environmental science, and I was intending to do some kind of environmental work with that. Much to my chagrin I ended up in nearly the opposite climate of Denver, Colorado. Soon after realizing I wouldn’t be able to return to Belize any time soon, I got pregnant with my first child. I knew I would stay home for at least a little while, so I took a job I knew I would be able to leave easily after a few months.

I won’t say I love everything about being a mom. I am not one of those sparkle of sunshine pinterest moms. It’s just not my thing. Also, toddlers are dangerous, often mean, terribly messy little boogers. I try to be open, authentic, and honest about motherhood - and everything else - as much as possible. There are a lot of things about parenting that are simply unbelievably hard. It’s hard to even convey how totally and completely exhausting it is physically, emotionally, and spiritually. It’s also the most profoundly unshakeable, unbreakable, wildly passionate love I have ever experienced. To be fair here, I sort of suck at marriage/ltr, but I’m pretty sure there’s no comparison to a mama’s love for her babies.

So when I say I love childbirth, you know I’m being honest. I’m not here to lie to you. I will straight up tell you how it is. Of course it hurts, but it’s also so amazingly empowering. Spirit turned to form within my body, and I then birthed that body earthside. Of course that first go around I was terrified. I had no idea what to expect, and it went way faster than any of us expected. 4:43 is crazy short for a first birth, and my midwife barely made it to my house in time. To have this crazy power really flow through my being was so amazing to me. There was something else in charge and yet I felt so empowered and powerful to be an integral part of this sacred journey.

The moment he was born, I was immediately in love in that wildly powerful way I described. I called my mother and apologized for the whole of my teenage years and told her that I had never realized she loved me that much. That precious little baby is now almost 20. I still don’t really understand this whole time thing. It’s absolutely mystifying how it just wheels and deals and changes speed and direction.

I have loved almost the whole journey. I know I talked some shit about toddlers up there. As Utah Phillips said, “I love kids, especially little kids. Little kids are assholes, but they’re their own assholes.” Without question in my mind, the toddler years are the most challenging, but they are also amazing. The first “I love you,” chunky little hands covered in God knows what, sweet hugs, crazy hair, learning to speak, asleep in your arms, and of course the way they’re a lot like funny drunks. They are truly precious. Then the incredible creativity and imaginations of the 3-7 crowd. Then the ages of expanding knowledge and ideas, of starting to separate from mom and have their own identity. The God awful middle years when they’re so awkward and you just feel so bad for them, but all you can do is love them through it and try not to mortify them every day. I know so many people have such a huge issue with teenagers, but the two I’ve had so far have been amazing. They are brilliant, creative, responsible, passionate, kind, and adventurous, gorgeous beings. We respect each other, and we have beautiful, insightful, and entertaining conversations. In fact the hardest bit of motherhood is when they move out. It’s gut wrenchingly awful. It was like a little bit of my soul being ripped from my body. I used to stand at the door of his room and just sob. The next one leaves in August. Y’all start praying for me now.

I know motherhood is not for everyone, but for me it has been and continues to be a beautiful journey of love and growth. I have stretched myself in ways I didn’t know I could. I have gone to the brink of falling off the edge. I have dealt with post partum depression. I have been more exhausted than I knew was possible. I have had the ugliest pieces of me reflected back innocently by the sweetest faces I have ever known. Most importantly my heart has blossomed beyond what I ever could have imagined. I love them to the red shifting edges of the universe and back, and nothing they could do could ever change that. It’s hard to imagine being more grateful for anything than the privilege of experiencing that love and of being honored by the sacred request of a spirit asking to call me mama.

Much love, y’all!

As always, all pics are mine or pixabay unless otherwise noted.

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