Why I Do This

As another Mother's Day has come and gone, I look at this picture we take every year and think about this crazy full-time job that is mine.

Why am I doing this? That is the question I ask myself some days. The days that are hard, challenging, mundane, frustrating.

It's a legitimate question. I'm sure many people around the world would ask me the same thing. What is it about motherhood that makes everything else take a back burner role?

My answer? These two. And the one growing inside me as well. I do this because of them. I know...an obvious answer. I am a mother because of them. I have to do this job everyday because I had them. But that's not what I mean. I do this because they are gifts given to me. They need someone to love them, teach them, nurture them. And because I do all those things (not perfectly, or even well most of the time), I get so much more in return. They make me ME. I am me, because of them.

I have no problem being identified as their mother. It is one of the truest parts of my identity. I am who I am today because of them. And everyday that part of me gets better. I don't mean to say I get better at this mothering thing, because I don't know if that will ever happen. They just make me better. They make me better because they bring me to my worst sometimes. They make me better because they love me no matter what. They make me better because I can honestly say, my love for them grows every day.

Being a mother is the hardest, loveliest thing I could do for myself. A selfish contradiction. Oh well.
That is why I do this.