A Gift for Mom! 🤍

These early years with my girls.

I often think about how my little ones will have no recollection of this time. Thousands upon thousands upon thousands of moments that have changed me in an indelible way, yet them? They won’t even remember any of it.

These early years when I have aged more than I have slept, and they’ll not retain a moment of it. When I dwell on that, it kind of devastates me, you know?

I mean, motherhood has wreaked havoc on my mind, body, soul, time, moneymy everything. It only seems fair that it should impact them too, right?

It’s easy to feel overwhelmed with the day in, day out monotony that dominates these early days of motherhood. It’s easy to feel discouraged when everything you do gets undone. When chores you have just completed already beg to be done again.

RELATED: A Mother’s Work Is Never Done—But Always Worth It

But the thing about raising littles is it’s kind of like gardening. Now, I should preface this by saying I’m no gardening expert. I’m also not a parenting expert. In fact, I’m not an expert in anything, so, well, this could get a bit awkward. Disclaimer: I have yet to keep a house plant alive.

Anyway. It takes a long time, years sometimes, before a tree begins to produce fruit. There is so much growth and development and foundation laying that happens in the early years. There is so much tending that needs to be done.

A mustard seed is so incredibly tiny, it’s hard to believe it can grow into a formidable plant.

RELATED: Mothering Daughters is a Work of the Heart

Raising my kids? Same principle. Thankfully, unlike my failed attempts to keep house plants alive, the mini humans are doing well. Thriving even.

Even though they won’t remember the exact memories of these early years, I know I’m shaping the frame of the very women they will become.

The more I invest into their hearts and minds, the better I am setting them up to be confident young women.

So I try not to get too discouraged when the days start to merge and blend together. When I have to teach the same lesson a hundred times over. When I have to wipe up the same spills and wash the same clothes day in, day out. I try to remember that these ordinary days, these are so important.

RELATED: I Am The Keeper

These are shaping days. Foundation days. Watering the seed and tending to the garden days. And even if my kids won’t retain the memories of these early days, they will know they were so loved. As they grow into beautiful young women, the fruit will begin to grow and show evidence of the care that went into its foundations.

And me? My girls may not remember these early years but I certainly won’t forget. These are the days that are the making of them, but they’re also the making of me, too.

Previously published on the author’s Facebook page

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!

Sina Steele

Sina is a wife, mom and creative from New Zealand. Along with raising her daughters, she enjoys working from home in social media, design and writing. She serves alongside her husband at a Christian missions-training college in New Zealand. She loves encouraging women to step out in faith, and you can find her writing ministry over at Her Mustard Faith.

Your Worth As a Mother Is Not Defined By How You Feed Your Baby

In: Baby, Motherhood
Mother and baby stand by crib

I’m not breastfeeding my baby. I wanted to. And I was able to for the first several weeks of her life. But as the days went on, I could tell it wasn’t enough for her anymore, so we started supplementing. And sure enough, without warning, she began screaming through nursing sessions, but was satisfied with a bottle. And that’s when I knew what I needed to do. A similar situation also happened with my first. She didn’t gain her birth weight back on my milk alone, so I had no choice but to supplement right away. And before I knew...

Keep Reading

A Mother’s Love Doesn’t End When Her Kids Move Out

In: Motherhood
Family posing in Time Square

When my last sibling moved out of the house, I watched my mom struggle in a quiet, almost unspoken way. It wasn’t something dramatic or visible; it was something I could feel in her presence. For 40 years, her life had revolved around taking care of us—my siblings and me. Every season of her life had been shaped around our needs, our schedules, our milestones, and our growing up. Being a mom wasn’t just something she did. It was who she was—the structure of her days, the cadence of her thoughts, and the center of her purpose. So when the...

Keep Reading

The Hardest Part of Divorce Is Being Away from My Kids

In: Living, Marriage, Motherhood
Woman in driver's seat

I’ve written several times about how divorce has allowed me to find myself again, and how that version is even better than the one I was before I was married. All of that is still true. I am happier than I’ve ever been. More confident and sure of myself. I understand my emotions and how to handle myself when things get tough or scary. I am more grounded and calm than I’ve ever been. Truly, I have come out on top. I’ve received comments about how happy I look, how I’m “living my best life with kids only half the...

Keep Reading

I May Let Go of the Baby Things, but I’ll Hold the Memories Forever

In: Baby, Motherhood
Woman looking through closet of baby items

It’s easy to think of multiple sayings and mottos about how invaluable earthly possessions are. “It’s not what you have, but who you share it with” “Worry less about things and more about experiences” “Who cares what you have, you can’t take it with you when you go” And trust me, I know these to be true. I am not a hoarder of hotel pens or mini shampoo bottles or every receipt and coaster from my favorite restaurants. I don’t care much for name-brand shoes or designer purses, yet there are a few things I just can’t easily let go...

Keep Reading

Mom Showed Us Love that Lasts

In: Motherhood
Vintage photo of mother and three young kids

We moved a few years ago, and we had a closet that needed some reworking. In doing so, my husband found some old photos. He pulled out an album that held this vintage photo of my mom, my sisters, and me. It was probably circa 1983 when prints were made from Kodak. I actually don’t remember seeing the photo before. But I love it. In the photo, my mother’s eyes are shut with a blink because those were the days when blinks weren’t edited. It’s beautiful, and I can’t stop thinking about the captured connection. She was showing us something...

Keep Reading

This Is How I’m Raising My Sensitive Son

In: Motherhood
Little boy hugs a cat

When I was pregnant with my son, everyone warned me of what was to come. “Just you wait,” they’d say with an underlying schadenfreude, “you’ll never sleep again.” I fully expected sleep-deprived days and long, unrelenting nights, calming my son down from tantrums, trying to keep the peace with my marriage. But I got lucky—my son sleeps through the night, doesn’t throw tantrums, and my marriage is stronger than ever. I didn’t expect that, especially because I struggle with my own mental health and assumed I’d be in the weeds during my postpartum period. Now that my son is almost...

Keep Reading

It’s Time for Us To Start Talking about Menopause

In: Motherhood
Midlife woman selfie

Disclaimer: The information included below is not intended as a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment.   Menopause. Growing up, this was a mysterious subject spoken about in hushed tones. When I approached this transition, I didn’t know what to expect. It began during a dinner with old college friends. Suddenly, I was overcome by heat and nausea. I left early, missing time with friends I rarely see and the beer sampler I ordered. Driving back to the hotel, I realized I had my first major hot flash. This was just the start of unexpected changes. In the following...

Keep Reading

I Didn’t Know You Were My Last Baby When I Had You

In: Baby, Motherhood
Mother holding newborn baby, black and white image

I didn’t know at the time that my last baby would be my last. Those late nights with little sleep. The days that felt so long, yet so full all at the same time. The pain that came with trying to breastfeed and wanting so badly for it to work. Learning who was truly there for you in moments that felt lonely. I didn’t know my body would never feel those first flutters again—or experience the emotional joy of meeting your baby face to face after nine months of waiting. I think that’s why I want so badly to experience...

Keep Reading

The Invisible Pain after IVF Stops

In: Motherhood
Woman holding pregnancy test with head in hands

There is nothing “basic” about stopping IVF and returning to the so-called natural route. There is no guidebook for what comes next. The protocols and procedures that once dictated every step suddenly disappear. The appointments, alarms, and instructions are gone—but the emotions and unknowns remain. There is no protocol for going back to the basics. When we decided to stop IVF and try naturally, I wasn’t prepared for how difficult this next part of our journey would be. During IVF, everything had structure. There were calendars to follow, medications to take at exact times, appointments that filled the weeks. There...

Keep Reading

The Final Out

In: Motherhood
Baseball game as seen through the fence behind home plate

Tonight I watched him step up to the plate for the last time. Play-offs. Single elimination. Down by one. Last inning. Two outs. And the batting lineup just happened to fall to him. Nothing prepares you for that. He took a breath. The weight of an entire lifetime spent in red dirt hinging on this moment. He set his face like flint to that pitcher. The ball left the glove, and he swung. Strike one. He stepped away. Reset. Tapped the base. Then set himself once more. He swung, hit a line drive, and sprinted headlong towards the base, setting...

Keep Reading