Motherhood is a brave journey. It has always been this brave thing to raise another independent, pushing the limits, melt your heart at night, love them forever even when they drive you crazy, human. That is what you are doing. Even on those tired days.
Cutting snowflakes matters. Making pizza matters. Finding missing socks matters. Taking temperatures matters. Listening to stories matters. Writing notes matters. Driving to classes matter. Folding clothes matters. Counting to ten again and again matters. Laughing matters. Rocking babies in rocking chairs matters. All of that normal everyday motherhood stuff matters.
I know I talk about when we get old and stuff, but I am telling you, we are not going to talk about our lunch choices. Or the fact that my kids dig through a round white laundry basket looking for a matching pair of socks. Do you know what we will talk about? We will talk about our motherhood journey.
A mother is a powerful thing. Sometimes we look to the big things - the organized homes, the perfect schedules, the times of not messing up - and we overlook the power in the simplest moments where we give of self oblivious of space and time. That's love.