The Sweetest Mother's Day Gift!

When I became a mom, I made myself a promise: I would never lose myself in motherhood.

I never believed I had to give up everything that makes me “me” to be a great mom. Yet, slowly but surely, I’ve lost pieces of myself along the way.

There were pieces of myself and my freedom I expected to lose—long showers, sleeping through the night, and spontaneity, just to name a few. But as I’ve adjusted to my role, I’ve learned it’s easy to become a person I hardly recognized.

From the bags under my eyes, tangled hair, and growing to-do list, I’ve become a much more exhausted, anxious, and scruffier version of myself. I’m impatient at times. I’m frustrated at times. I’m short-tempered at times. I’ve never had so much required or expected of me.

As a mother, I’m constantly fueling the minds, bodies, and spirits of my children. And when you’re constantly fueling others, you sometimes forget to fuel yourself. 

I’ve gone mornings without breakfast and evenings without dinner. I’ve gone nights without sleep and days without sitting. I’ve had food thrown at me and vomit thrown on me. I’ve had my hair pulled and face screamed at. I’ve gone from jeans to pajamas. And the last time I cut my hair was over a year ago.

Have I lost myself? A little. Do I recognize myself? Some days, no.

Motherhood is transformative. It transforms a woman’s mental, physical, and emotional being. It changes a woman. Motherhood takes pieces of you. There are days motherhood will wear you down. But motherhood also provides you with the inspiration to be your best self for your children. And while you’re fueling their little hearts, they’re fueling your wants, desires, and dreams in an incredible way.

When I look in the mirror I see a woman who is tired, who is aged, who is ragged. I also see a woman who is determined, strong, and fierce. I see a woman who may have lost parts of herself in motherhood but who has also found parts of herself along the way.

This woman looking back at me is not a woman I recognize. She is a woman who speaks her voice, stands confident in her body, follows her dreams, and truly values the life she has. She’s a woman who left her career to raise babies, confidently went from a size zero to a size six, and isn’t afraid of exposing her truth. And if it wasn’t for the babies clinging to her lap, she never would have found a reason to value herself, to pursue dreams, or to stay true to her promises. 

So, have I lost myself? A little. Do I recognize myself? Some days, no. Have I become someone I’m proud of? The answer is yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.

I’ve never loved deeper, worked harder, or fought stronger for anything in my life. I’ve never had a reason to look deep within me and find who I’m truly supposed to be. While motherhood causes you to lose parts of yourself, it isn’t always bad. It’s hard. It’s different. But not always bad. In some instances it leaves room for learning things about yourself you never knew, and for growing in a way you never dreamed of. So, the next time you’re in a change room cursing your wide hips, or looking in the mirror concealing the bags under your eyes—look within. Look at the traits motherhood has brought to life—and let those shine. 

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Soon There Will Be No More Breakfasts To Make

In: Grown Children, Motherhood, Teen
Ten boy eating breakfast at kitchen counter

T-minus 44 days until a new beginning- Math has never been my strong suit or my favorite subject, but it will be about 19 years spent rising and trying to shine in our house. Nineteen years of prepping one, two, or all three of our sons to get up and ready for school. Nineteen years of making breakfast. Nineteen years of making lunches. For those of you in the thick of it right now, you know exactly what I mean. I think my husband Steve and I have it down to a science now. If we had to do it...

Keep Reading

I’m Going to Tell You the Things Your Mom Should Have Told You

In: Living, Motherhood
Mother with three grown daughters

During my oldest daughter’s freshman year of college, I started being haunted by a recurring dream of an old-fashioned suitcase—one of those hard-sided ones that’s as big as they come. In the dream, when I open the suitcase, it’s overflowing with clothing, shoes, and all kinds of stuff that belongs to me and each of my three daughters. Everything in the suitcase is all jumbled together. Nobody else in the dream is worried about sorting through everything, but I am totally stressed about it. To top it all off, I have to deal with this suitcase while preparing for a...

Keep Reading

The Half-Dressed Mom and Love in the Details

In: Motherhood
Woman sitting with coffee cup and book on bed

I am a proper mom. Not fancy, not prim—practical. I am dressed for the time of day, always. That is simply who I am. Except for this morning. This morning I was in a towel, bracing the bathroom counter, writhing in pain, and trying not to scream loud enough to disturb the neighbors. I had seen a specialist just the day before. He’d said I needed six weeks to heal before they could do further exploration. What he hadn’t said—what I hadn’t understood—was how much the healing itself would hurt. My 23-year-old daughter, Aislyn, found me like that. Panicked. Half-dressed....

Keep Reading

Mommy, Will You Play With Me?

In: Kids, Motherhood
Boy sitting in middle of toys smiling

With four kids at three different schools, our days are full. Between sports practices, music lessons, clubs, rehearsals, games, meets, and playdates, it feels like we’re constantly heading somewhere. I love that my children are involved in activities, but occasionally, it’s nice to have some downtime. When I get a text or email that a practice has been canceled, it’s usually a huge relief. Last week, after-school sports were cancelled due to heavy rain. When I picked up my youngest son from school, I told him we’d be going straight home for the rest of the afternoon. He looked surprised....

Keep Reading

Could We Take a Page from the ’80s and Stop Overparenting?

In: Kids, Motherhood

I have a confession: Yesterday I let my 11-year-old play with fire. Like literally. We live in the country, there is still wet snow on the ground, and he’s done it with his dad at least 20 times. But yesterday was the fifth consecutive day of no school, and probably the twentieth consecutive day of him asking to have a small fire without dad. Part of me did it out of laziness. Part of me did it out of selfishness. And part of me did it out of nostalgia. Here’s the thing—when I was 11, I was already babysitting (like...

Keep Reading

God Carries Me Through the Deep Waters of Change

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood
Woman at the beach as waves come in

“Ahhh!” My underwater scream garbled in my snorkel tube as the manta ray’s cavernous mouth swept a hand’s distance from my face. My fingers tightened around the surfboard until my knuckles ached. My arms trembled. I jerked my head side to side, searching for my daughters, Mia and Megan. Recent college graduates, they had joined me on one last mother-daughter vacation before launching their adult lives. They floated easily on the vibrant Hawaiian water, relaxed, trusting. I wanted to borrow their calm. Earlier, our guide had explained that the LED lights built into the surfboard attracted plankton the way college...

Keep Reading

Faith After a Rare Disease Diagnosis

In: Faith, Motherhood
Family smiling in posed photo

My pastor frequently speaks of “kid pain” and acknowledges there’s nothing like it. I can testify to that. After nine months of uncertainty and unexplained issues following the birth of our now 4-year-old daughter, Harlow, we finally received her diagnosis of Pyruvate Dehydrogenase Complex Deficiency (PDCD), a life-limiting mitochondrial disease with no cure and no FDA-approved treatments. It was heartbreaking. In moments like these, a parent can fall into complete desperation. You go through a range of emotions almost too fast to name: fear for your child’s life; anxiousness about how much time you’ll get with them; overwhelming grief. And...

Keep Reading

Good Mothers Bake from Scratch, and Other Lies I’ve Believed

In: Motherhood
Smiling women in selfie outside

I am standing at the kitchen counter, spooning banana mix into a muffin tin, when my daughter makes a proposal. “How about dis . . . ?” Presley begins, pausing for dramatic effect. “How about I put four chocolate chips on each muffin because dat’s how old I am?” I smile at her logic. Once every pink polka-dotted liner is filled with batter and topped with exactly four chocolate chips, I place both tins on the middle rack and set a timer. Presley runs out of the room and returns with her plastic step stool, placing it directly in front...

Keep Reading

My ‘Dusty Son’ is 5

In: Living, Motherhood
Little boy holding out dandelion bouquet

As moms, we categorize everything. Girl mom. Boy mom. Wine mom. Outdoor mom. Farm mom. City mom. Now there’s been an uptick in social media trends about exposing our girls to worldly and fancy experiences so someday they’re “not impressed by your dusty son.” I won the parenting jackpot (in my humble opinion) and have an older daughter and a younger son. He’s five. Not a grown man making real-world decisions. Not a college kid learning how to adult. He’s five. He loves dinosaurs and Mario. His big sissy and his Great Dane. He is incapable of cruelty and is...

Keep Reading

These Little Moments Are Everything

In: Motherhood
Mother embracing young child who is kissing her cheek

I almost missed it, my little one. How your eyebrows lift in quiet concentration as you carefully place each block, adding a new wall to your tiger castle. The way you say “scoop over, mom” and shuffle closer to me until our legs touch. “Just one second, bud.” The mantra of all busy moms. I almost missed your blonde hair flying wild as you bounce on the trampoline, that belly laugh that makes the whole world feel soft. I almost missed it. How you close your eyes as you crack the biggest, cheekiest smile when I tickle your belly, giggling...

Keep Reading