I’ve been in the thick of motherhood for some time now. As a mom to two teen boys, I’m in awe of these two giants that I birthed, but I’m also trying to get one across the finish line to high school graduation and the other to pass the eleventh grade. It’s a lot, y’all.

Who will I be when I am no longer parenting? I’m not sure as this chapter has been all consuming. I just hope I’ve done my job. I hope I’ve raised boys who are good men.

I can’t say that motherhood came all that naturally to me. It was a practice. I had a baby, and I committed to showing up fully everyday. And I did it over and over and over.

I remember sitting in the hospital after Piers was born. The nurse handed him to me. I stared at him. He was calm, sturdy. I talked to him as he fell asleep.

“I have no idea what I’m doing, but I promise you I will figure it out. I will keep trying and doing and acting like I know what to do, and eventually I will.”

Piers was chill. He ate and slept and rarely cried. It was a lot, but we did it. Gil was super helpful and an amazing dad. The three of us fell into a rhythm. Those days seem so far away.

I got pregnant with Wallace when Piers was six months old. We weren’t quite prepared for another baby, but heck, I hadn’t been prepared for the first one. Surely we would figure it out.

My labor with Wallace began early one morning in April. Gil and Piers were sound asleep. I walked into the kitchen and immediately smelled dog poo. Misty, our golden retriever, had taken a giant dump in the middle of our dining room. Why?????!!!!! Gil was notorious for going to bed and forgetting to let her out. This is still a thing with him.

I gathered all the supplies, cursing under my breath and griping that I spent entirely too much of my life cleaning up piles of sh*t. I was almost done when I felt a weird pain in my lower back. Uh oh. This was different. The pains grew closer together, but they certainly were not unbearable. Gil called his parents. They came and picked up Piers. I dawdled as I do. Gil and I had a fight that stemmed from the fact that he was terrified he’d have to deliver our baby on the side of the interstate. It was something.

I was convinced that I was not in labor, but when we arrived at the birthing center, the midwife announced that I was dilated eight centimeters and that this baby was coming. She was not wrong. We arrived at 1:45 and Wallace was born at 2:20. Whew!

Wallace burst onto the scene with a head full of red hair and piercing shrieks. While Piers arrived with a calm, steady demeanor, the midwife called Wallace enthusiastic and interesting. Truer words have never been spoken. He has kept us on our toes since day one.

I felt like a seasoned mother when I had Wallace, and that’s a good thing because he didn’t eat well or sleep well, and there was a lot of screaming. Let’s just say it took him a bit to get used to Earth. Luckily I understood. I, too, am still acclimating to Earth.

As it happened, both of my boys are high energy and spirited. As challenging as it has been, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I had a challenging and complicated relationship with my own mother. I know she loves me, but I didn’t always feel that growing up. For this reason, that has always been paramount in my relationship with my kids. I have done my very best to ensure that they know how loved they are, especially when they mess up. And goodness knows, lately there’s been a lot of messing up.

I had an interesting conversation with a good friend last week. She was telling me how much she hates Mother’s Day. She does not have any children, and most of the time she is okay with that, but when Mother’s Day rolls around she feels sad and inadequate. Like she has failed in some way. This is a friend who very much has mothered me. She’s a teacher. She has mothered thousands of children in her nearly thirty year career.

I have so many feelings that arise on Mother’s Day, but mostly, I feel gratitude.

Being a mother has healed something in me. While learning to mother my boys, I have also learned to mother myself. I’ve learned to accept and love myself unconditionally in ways that were never really offered to me as a kid.

Mother’s Day is complicated. It brings up so many emotions. Whatever you feel today, I hope you are able to nurture yourself. Sending lots of love and light, and I hope you have a beautiful week.