So God Made a Mother Collection ➔

When I was pregnant with my son, I remember telling people how tired I was at the start.

“Just wait until your third trimester. That’s when you get really tired,” they would say. They weren’t lying.

But when that time arrived and I admitted to being tired, it was always received with the same prompt response.

“Just wait until you have that baby! You won’t be getting any sleep for awhile.”

It didn’t take me long to recognize the trend I was frequenting—what I like to call the just wait.

Not sleeping well during your pregnancy? Just wait until you aren’t sleeping at all with your newborn.

Tight on cash? Just wait until you’re forking over a small mortgage in daycare.

Boobs hurt? Just wait until you’re nursing.

It wasn’t until I was experiencing the exciting firsts of motherhood that I realized the just waitwould never go away. Why?

“Just wait until you have two of them.”

Here’s my question—why must we always wait? Why can’t we embrace the here and now?

Why can’t we be tired?

Why can’t we be broke?

Why can’t we be excitedambitious, oroverwhelmed?

Girlfriend, let me tell you something. It all passes quickly. The first one, the second one, and I’m sure the third and fourth do as well. Yes, the saying is true—the days are long, but the years are short.

I made myself a promise I would never tell another female to “just wait” again.

Do you want to know why?

Because it devalues her current experience. There’s nothing quite like that phrase to make a girl feel like what she’s going through isn’t important. It instills a feeling there will always be something easier, tougher, more enjoyable, more confusing. And while you think you may be helping them, it does nothing more than push the fast forward button on their current experience. Every moment is an opportunity to grow, to relish, to learn. Why shortchange someone’s moment by telling them to just wait for the next?

I can imagine my audience thinking I’m taking this too seriously.

When I was pregnant with my first child, it didn’t take long for the just waits to start flowing. I quickly grew tired of being reminded there would always be a time when I would need more A/C, more anxiety meds, more tissues, more anything. I felt like it totally discounted what I was going through at that moment. When I had my son, people immediately started to pipe up about just waiting until I had two kids. That’s the moment when I knew it would never stop.

That was also the moment I vowed to never tell someone to just wait.

I just wanted to enjoy my son. Even when I was up at 3 a.m. feeding him, watching The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air on Nick at Nite through zombie eyes, I still wanted to enjoy him. I didn’t want to think about what it would be like with two kids at that time, because that would mean this moment would have passed. He probably wouldn’t be snuggled in my arms, asleep. I wouldn’t be watching just one more episode because I had finally gotten comfortable. I might not be admiring his little baby eyelashes because they were just so long and beautiful.

Now that I have two children, I am busier. No, I wasn’t just waiting to be busier, but I knew it would happen. Now that my daughter is here I am relishing my minutes with her just as I did with my son. I know one day she will be older, more dramatic, more stubborn. But she will also be funnier, and even more beautiful than she is at this moment. I want to enjoy her now and later in equal, lasting moments. I want to breathe her in now, in a year, and in ten years without thinking about what will happen if I’m just waiting for something else to happen. Because if I’m just waiting, more than likely I am missing what is right before my eyes.

This is why I know not to tell my friends, acquaintances and strangers to just wait.

This isn’t just for mothers either, y’all. Working women, don’t wait. You do that thing now. Get that promotion. Reach that goal. Move out of that cubicle. Don’t listen to someone when they tell you to just wait, because you are crushing goals right now. You don’t have time to worry about what will be. You have to do you this very minute.

Ladies, embrace your bodies now. Body issues may be the biggest just wait of them all:

Just wait until you’re my age.

Just wait until you can’t move like that anymore.

Just wait until you’ve had three kids.

You can be still, falling victim to the fear of just waiting or you can do your thing now. And whether you are running a marathon, doing yoga or taking a walk down the street—I can assure you you’ll have zero regrets you ignored the naysayers of the world and did your thing.

And to the students, yes, you will enter the real world one day. Don’t let anyone tell you to “just wait until you have a real job and blah, blah, blah . . .” because you know what? You probably are working a real job already—on campus, at Starbucks or at a company related to your field of study. Are you waitressing? Do you, Boo. Babysitting? Even better—flexible hours. And when you get your diploma and secure your first career-status job, your life will not suck. There is life after the diploma. Some of our strongest sisters are raising children, working full-time jobs, or doing both while attending school.

Let’s find a way to embrace the now for how beautiful, overwhelming, confusing and real it is at this very moment.

Should you plan for the future? Absolutely. I’m not suggesting for anyone to run free without a care. I simply think there is something to be said for living life as life happens. We should encourage our girlfriends to do the same. If it’s a beautiful moment, remind them, appreciate it, breathe it in. If it’s a tough moment, tell them it will be OK, tell yourself it will be OK. Know you are growing because when you embrace the challenging, you become more resilient with every “tick” of the second hand.

Be passionate. Take control. Lift your girlfriends up. Lift others up. Don’t tell them to just wait. Tell them to enjoy life, all the way to the last drop. And then when all of that is done, take your own advice and do the same.

Originally published on the author’s blog

Amanda Hobbs

I am a Christian wife and mother of two living in rural North Carolina. As a public school educator and beginning blogger, I'm chronicling my adventures living a not-so-slow-paced life seeking out simple joys in a country town.

I Thought Our Friendship Would Be Unbreakable

In: Friendship, Journal, Relationships
Two friends selfie

The message notification pinged on my phone. A woman, once one of my best friends, was reaching out to me via Facebook. Her message simply read, “Wanted to catch up and see how life was treating you!”  I had very conflicting feelings. It seemed with that one single message, a flood of memories surfaced. Some held some great moments and laughter. Other memories held disappointment and hurt of a friendship that simply had run its course. Out of morbid curiosity, I clicked on her profile page to see how the years had been treating her. She was divorced and still...

Keep Reading

The First 10 Years: How Two Broken People Kept Their Marriage from Breaking

In: Journal, Marriage, Relationships
The First Ten Years: How Two Broken People Kept Their Marriage from Breaking

We met online in October of 2005, by way of a spam email ad I was THIS CLOSE to marking as trash. Meet Single Christians! My cheese alert siren sounded loudly, but for some reason, I unchecked the delete box and clicked through to the site. We met face-to-face that Thanksgiving. As I awaited your arrival in my mother’s kitchen, my dad whispered to my little brother, “Hide your valuables. Stacy has some guy she met online coming for Thanksgiving dinner.” We embraced for the first time in my parents’ driveway. I was wearing my black cashmere sweater with the...

Keep Reading

To The Mother Who Is Overwhelmed

In: Inspiration, Motherhood
Tired woman with coffee sitting at table

I have this one head. It is a normal sized head. It didn’t get bigger because I had children. Just like I didn’t grow an extra arm with the birth of each child. I mean, while that would be nice, it’s just not the case. We keep our one self. And the children we add on each add on to our weight in this life. And the head didn’t grow more heads because we become a wife to someone. Or a boss to someone. We carry the weight of motherhood. The decisions we must make each day—fight the shorts battle...

Keep Reading

You’re a Little Less Baby Today Than Yesterday

In: Journal, Motherhood
Toddler sleeping in mother's arms

Tiny sparkles are nestled in the wispy hair falling across her brow, shaken free of the princess costume she pulled over her head this morning. She’s swathed in pink: a satiny pink dress-up bodice, a fluffy, pink, slightly-less-glittery-than-it-was-two-hours-ago tulle skirt, a worn, soft pink baby blanket. She’s slowed long enough to crawl into my lap, blinking heavy eyelids. She’s a little less baby today than she was only yesterday.  Soon, she’ll be too big, too busy for my arms.  But today, I’m rocking a princess. The early years will be filled with exploration and adventure. She’ll climb atop counters and...

Keep Reading

Dear Husband, I Loved You First

In: Marriage, Motherhood, Relationships
Man and woman kissing in love

Dear husband, I loved you first. But often, you get the last of me. I remember you picking me up for our first date. I spent a whole hour getting ready for you. Making sure every hair was in place and my make-up was perfect. When you see me now at the end of the day, the make-up that is left on my face is smeared. My hair is more than likely in a ponytail or some rat’s nest on the top of my head. And my outfit, 100% has someone’s bodily fluids smeared somewhere. But there were days when...

Keep Reading

Stop Being a Butthole Wife

In: Grief, Journal, Marriage, Relationships
Man and woman sit on the end of a dock with arms around each other

Stop being a butthole wife. No, I’m serious. End it.  Let’s start with the laundry angst. I get it, the guy can’t find the hamper. It’s maddening. It’s insanity. Why, why, must he leave piles of clothes scattered, the same way that the toddler does, right? I mean, grow up and help out around here, man. There is no laundry fairy. What if that pile of laundry is a gift in disguise from a God you can’t (yet) see? Don’t roll your eyes, hear me out on this one. I was a butthole wife. Until my husband died. The day...

Keep Reading

I Can’t Be Everyone’s Chick-fil-A Sauce

In: Friendship, Journal, Living, Relationships
woman smiling in the sun

A couple of friends and I went and grabbed lunch at Chick-fil-A a couple of weeks ago. It was delightful. We spent roughly $20 apiece, and our kids ran in and out of the play area barefoot and stinky and begged us for ice cream, to which we responded, “Not until you finish your nuggets,” to which they responded with a whine, and then ran off again like a bolt of crazy energy. One friend had to climb into the play tubes a few times to save her 22-month-old, but it was still worth every penny. Every. Single. One. Even...

Keep Reading

Love Notes From My Mother in Heaven

In: Faith, Grief, Journal, Living
Woman smelling bunch of flowers

Twelve years have passed since my mother exclaimed, “I’ve died and gone to Heaven!” as she leaned back in her big donut-shaped tube and splashed her toes, enjoying the serenity of the river.  Twelve years since I stood on the shore of that same river, 45 minutes later, watching to see if the hopeful EMT would be able to revive my mother as she floated toward his outstretched hands. Twelve years ago, I stood alone in my bedroom, weak and trembling, as I opened my mother’s Bible and all the little keepsakes she’d stowed inside tumbled to the floor.  It...

Keep Reading

Sometimes Friendships End, No Matter How Hard You Try

In: Friendship, Journal, Relationships
Sad woman alone without a friend

I tried. We say these words for two reasons. One: for our own justification that we made an effort to complete a task; and two: to admit that we fell short of that task. I wrote those words in an e-mail tonight to a friend I had for nearly 25 years after not speaking to her for eight months. It was the third e-mail I’ve sent over the past few weeks to try to reconcile with a woman who was more of a sister to me at some points than my own biological sister was. It’s sad when we drift...

Keep Reading

Goodbye to the House That Built Me

In: Grown Children, Journal, Living, Relationships
Ranch style home as seen from the curb

In the winter of 1985, while I was halfway done growing in my mom’s belly, my parents moved into a little brown 3 bedroom/1.5 bath that was halfway between the school and the prison in which my dad worked as a corrections officer. I would be the first baby they brought home to their new house, joining my older sister. I’d take my first steps across the brown shag carpet that the previous owner had installed. The back bedroom was mine, and mom plastered Smurf-themed wallpaper on the accent wall to try to get me to sleep in there every...

Keep Reading

5 Secrets to the

BEST Summer Ever!


Creating simple summer memories

with your kids that will  last a lifetime