Pre-Order So God Made a Mother

Here we are, my love.

I’m in the kitchen, re-reading this recipe for what feels like the hundredth time, relieved because you’re finally home and taking over their questions and interruptions and requests. You did it without me having to ask because it’s what we do every day. It’s where we fall, where we settle into our roles for the final hours of the day.

Here we are, my love.

You are there, and I am here.

I clean up after dinner while you bathe them and get them ready for bed. During this part of the day, we’re often in separate rooms, doing separate things that converge towards the same ultimate goal.

It hits me, suddenly, that we haven’t had a proper conversation in a few days. There’s that story you started to tell me yesterday, or that idea I was excited to share with you, but they inevitably turn into cliffhangers these days because someone needs a diaper change, or someone needs to tell you about the new friend they made at school, or someone wants to show you how good they’ve gotten at hopping; and because we need – we want – to listen, we have become experts at exchanging a wordless look that promises, “Later, when they’re asleep.”

Do you remember those telephone conversations we used to have for hours on end? We’d feel like we could stay there forever – forever – just listening to each others’ voices, with hearts so full and so much to say. In the place of distractions and interruptions and refereeing was the abundance of time and undivided attention.

It didn’t matter that we’d be up well into the early hours of the morning. Sleep was no big deal.

And now, here we are, my love, where sometimes, when they are finally asleep, we’re both too drained to get into an in-depth conversation, and the lure of the mutual, silent, agreement to crumble in a heap onto the couch, mindlessly decompressing by watching a show or reading a book, is too great to resist.

Sometimes they sleep so soundly that we do get to discuss life’s big decisions, or what’s in our hearts, right after they’ve been bathed, read to, kissed goodnight and tucked in. But more often than not, we can only manage to talk in the nooks, crannies and fringes of our day, while they paint in the bathtub, while they pull out every single book from the bookshelf, while they forget about our presence for a moment and create their own game. We are theirs, but in some moments – some precious moments – we are only each other’s.

Here we are, my love, where the things that used to make our hearts race are replaced by the bursts of emotion when they do something funny, or unbelievably smart, or cheeky, and our eyes dart across the table, quicker than lightning, and we say everything in a smirk or an eyebrow raise. They’re replaced by a ten-second pause in the midst of all the chaos when you look at me that little bit longer or I smile at you, just you, for no reason other than that I’m happy I’m with you in this craziness. And just like that, we are caught back in the wave of belonging to little ones, of being looked up to with adoring eyes and curious faces, of having our clothes pulled by small, but strong, hands to make sure they get our attention, and all of it, of heavy heads buried into our shoulders when they are hurt, of being the ones they need for everything – everything – all the time.

Here we are, my love, making the memories we will one day look back on, with laughter, with nostalgia, maybe with relief, but maybe with aching hearts.

We’ll look back on them when we have the things we now crave: independence, time, energy, vacations, late nights and sleep-ins, hot meals and coffees, the freedom to do whatever we please, whenever we please.

And there we’ll be, my love, not wanting to intrude but eagerly awaiting their next phone call because they’re so busy with their own lives now, jokingly threatening to buy them the house next door to ours because we miss them and the grandkids so desperately, hinting that we’re free for the foreseeable future in the hope they have time to come and visit.

They will be there, and we will be here.

You sometimes say to me, “They’ll never be this small again.” And when you say it, I tell you to stop, because every time you do, I feel the tiniest of fractures splitting through my heart. It reminds me that time can be merciless, that moments become memories, that today becomes way back when.

So although here we are, my love, approaching another evening of uneaten dinners and pajama choice negotiations and passing out 20 minutes into a movie, with the anticipation of a 6 a.m. alarm in the form of soft hands on our faces and bubbly, squealing voices calling out “Mama! Papa!” and the expectation of breakfast made just how they each like it, I know it looks different than how it used to be—maybe even to how we thought it would be.

But right now, here we are, and here they are, my love. And I wouldn’t want to be here, all of us together, with anyone but you.

You May Also Like: Why Tired Mothers Stay Up So Late

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available for pre-order now!

Pre-Order Now

Her View From Home

Millions of mothers connected by love, friendship, family and faith. Join our growing community. 1,000+ writers strong. We pay too!   Find more information on how you can become a writer on Her View From Home at

Dear Busy Sports Mom: It’s Worth It

In: Kids, Motherhood, Tween
Mom watching soccer game, photo from behind

My daughter stands on the front porch every morning and waves goodbye to me as I pull out of the driveway to go to work.  She is 11, and recently eye-rolling, long sighs, and tears have become more commonplace in our daily interactions. But, there is also this: “Bye! Have a good day!” she calls to me in the quiet of early morning, neighbors not yet awake in their still dark houses. “You are AMAZING! You got this!” she continues in her little adult voice, sounding more like a soccer mom than a fifth grader.   Her hair is still a...

Keep Reading

Goodbye to the Baby Hangers

In: Kids, Motherhood
Shirt hanging from small hanger, color photo

You bought them when you first found out you were pregnant. It may have been one of the first items, actually, to hold all of the precious new clothes. The smallest ones in your household. Do you remember that first newborn onesie you bought? It was one of your favorites. You couldn’t fathom you would soon hold something so small that would fit into that onesie. You washed all of the new clothing in preparation and hung them up in your baby’s closet. You know the item. A miniature version of the ones in your closet. Baby hangers. “Do we...

Keep Reading

Take the Trip, You Won’t Regret It

In: Kids, Living, Motherhood

Two years ago, in the middle of a snowy, windy, Colorado March, my husband and I made the spontaneous decision to road trip to Arizona with our three very young kids.  Even though I was excited, the nerves were so very real. Over the next couple of weeks, I literally lost sleep worrying about the logistics of our trip. My late-night mindless scrolling was replaced by searches like “traveling with toddlers” and “keeping kids entertained on road trips”. We already had our hands full chasing kids at home in a familiar setting. Were we crazy to think we could just...

Keep Reading

They’ll Remember the Love Most of All

In: Kids, Motherhood
Woman with kids from above, pregnant mother with kids hands on belly

You lie in bed at the end of a long day, the events of the day flashing back through your mind. You do this a lot—recap your day as a mama. How did you do? Did you maintain your patience? Did you play enough? Did you limit screen time? Did you yell less today than you did yesterday? You saw a really neat toddler activity in the group you’re a part of on Facebook . . . you should have done that with the kids. They would have loved it. There wasn’t enough time though, and you didn’t have all...

Keep Reading

He’s Slowly Walking Away with Footprints As Big As Mine

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood, Tween
Teen boy walking along beach shore

The true measure of a mother’s love is her willingness to wake up before the sun on vacation. On a recent trip to the shore, my youngest son begged to walk the beach at dawn to look for shells. So, I set my alarm, tumbled out of a warm, king-sized bed with extra squishy pillows, glared at my dead-to-the-world husband, and gently woke my 11-year-old. Without so much as a drop of coffee, we headed out into the morning, the sun still below the ocean horizon. With each step, I shed my zombie-like state and took in the quiet, salt-kissed...

Keep Reading

Dear Son, Raising You Right Is Worth It

In: Kids, Motherhood
little boy walking in sunlit field

You were the baby who slept nights. You were the infant who quietly stacked blocks one on top of the other. You were the toddler who watched other kids go down the slide at the park 20 times before attempting it yourself. You were the preschooler who hunkered down quietly and patiently when meeting your grandmother’s chickens. So I assumed you would be a gentle boy. And you are.   And yet, now that you’re eight, I’m beginning to understand the meaning of the phrase, “Boys will be boys.” I had my first inkling that day when you were five...

Keep Reading

Are You Watching?

In: Child, Kids, Motherhood
Little girl playing goalie at soccer practice, color photo

I brought a book to my 7-year-old daughter’s soccer practice. To be honest, I was looking forward to one hour of time when I didn’t have to do anything but sit. No one would be asking me questions, and no one would need anything from me. I wasn’t in charge. So, I set up my lawn chair, got cozy, and opened the book. But then I happened to glance up as it was her turn to run a drill. The coach was passing each kid the ball for them to kick into the goal. She stepped forward, kicked, and made...

Keep Reading

Here’s to the Apraxia Warriors

In: Kids
Smiling little boy, color photo

This one is for my son. My second born. My kind and gentle child. My apraxia warrior. From birth, he’s been my snuggler. The one whose favorite place in the whole world was anywhere near me. The happy baby, joyful toddler, and forever smiling child. The one who’d hide behind me when strangers approached. The one who doesn’t take risks and doesn’t want to try something new easily. The one who won’t make eye contact easily. Perceived by others as shy. But here’s the thing . . . he’s not shy, he’s a warrior!  What you and I take for granted...

Keep Reading

Sick Season Is Exhausting

In: Kids, Motherhood
Sick boy on couch taking a nap

I cried on the way to my daughters doctor’s appointment this morning. She is not seriously ill; I have friends who have been battling serious illness alongside their kids and I cannot imagine the toll that takes on a parent. Their experiences are far more life changing than the one I am about to share. But I cried this morning because this winter has been brutal on our little family and I am tired. I am tired of seeing my sweet kids sick and knowing there is not much I can do to ease their pain. I am tired of...

Keep Reading

Please See My Child for More than His ADHD

In: Kids, Motherhood
Little boy climbing playground equipment

When you see us in the store, you see a wild little boy who’s usually trying to run away from me or touching everything he can. If you see us at church, you see and hear a child who can’t sit quietly in the pews even though other kids his age are perfectly capable. If you see us at the park, you see a child who may get in the faces of other kids speaking a version of English that is hard to understand, and you may see him throw some sand or grab another child’s toy. Chances are, if...

Keep Reading