So God Made a Teacher Collection (Sale!) ➔

I am a hostage negotiator—my voice soothing and calm while I talk down an incensed child holding his sister hostage with a spoonful of lumpy oatmeal poised over her head.

I am an architect—constructing towers and cities of wooden blocks and LEGOs, discussing what constitutes sound structural integrity while a 4-year-old ignores my advice.

I am a mother.

I am a surgeon—a needle in hand, squinting over my patient on the table, making careful stitches on the beloved stuffed elephant, ensuring the almost decapitated head lasts another month.

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I am a scientist—discussing hypotheses as we prepare a baking soda and vinegar experiment.

I am a mother.

I am a chef—always on call to whip up a snack or meal, allergies and preferences in the forefront of my mind, my dishes often received by harsh critics demanding more ketchup and fewer peas.

I am a pastor—fielding theological questions about if people can still see angels and “Is Jesus really God?” “Why didn’t God create unicorns?” and “Why do good people do bad things? And do bad people stay bad forever?”

I am a mother.

I am a nurse—taking temperatures and looking at sore throats, evaluating scrapes and cuts, cleaning wounds, dispensing Band-Aids and medicine with a smile and kind touch.

I am a mathematician—explaining fractions while we cook, finding patterns, and solving puzzles in day-to-day life, multiplying my love every time we add another kid.

I am a mother.

I am an athlete—shooting hoops at the park, kicking balls back and forth on the soccer field, racing down the sidewalk with chubby, little hands tight in mine and giggles on our lips.

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I am an art critic—viewing brand new crayon creations, deciphering lines and circles and letters to determine meanings while muttering lots of “hmm” and “tell me more.”

I am a mother.

Mothering is more all-encompassing than I ever expected. My daily jobs include these and others—sleuth, (temporary) tattoo artist, actor, mechanic, seamstress, chauffer, taste tester, acrobat, parole officer, firefighter, and more. Mothering is not for the faint-hearted.

I am a mother. And I am enough.

Gretchen Hoffman

Gretchen is a Jesus enthusiast, wife/mama, and math lover. When she's not playing with her kids or answering, "Why?" for the hundredth time, she enjoys reading, writing, and learning to live cross-culturally. You can find her on Instagram at @thewritegretchen.

I Am The Keeper

In: Kids, Motherhood

I am the keeper. I am the keeper of schedules. Of practices, games, and lessons. Of projects, parties, and dinners. Of appointments and homework assignments.  I am the keeper of information. Who needs food 5 minutes before a meltdown occurs and who needs space when he gets angry. Whether there are clean clothes, whether bills are paid, and whether we are out of milk.  I am the keeper of solutions. Of bandaids and sewing kits and snacks in my purse. But also of emotional balms and metaphorical security blankets.  I am the keeper of preferences. Of likes and dislikes. Of...

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Someday I’ll be all me again. Someday I’ll start to read grown up books that interest and challenge me instead of books about finding little monsters and counting apples. Someday I’ll dye my hair regularly and take care of my nails. Someday I’ll choose my clothing as more of a fashion statement instead of knotting my shirt over a stain and wearing a skirt because all my pants are at the bottom of the hamper. Someday I’ll quit using so much dry shampoo because I’ll have time to shower every night. Someday I’ll spend hours in my craft room filling...

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It’s Not My Turn For Sleep or Romance, But It’s My Turn to Soak Up the Magic of Raising Little Kids

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It’s not my turn. It’s not my turn to go where I want, when I want. It’s not my turn to put my wants and needs first. It’s not my turn to get butterflies on a first date. It’s not my turn to plan a wedding. I’ve had my turn. It’s not my turn to leisurely enjoy my coffee with slow mornings. It’s not my turn to explore all of my interests and hobbies. It’s not my turn to spend my days as I please. It’s not my turn to spoil grandchildren. Hopefully, I’ll have my turn. RELATED: We’re In...

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