One Shining Moment
Sometimes as Moms. We are fooled into believing. That motherhood is about that one shining moment. Where all the planets and stars (and even the angels in heaven) align to help us get to that one perfect scenario. The one we can pin all our hopes and dreams on. The one that says, “It was all worth it…because we finally did it!”
But that just isn’t true. And, friends, I’ve learned a lot in near 21 years of Mothering. And I know enough to know. That I’m still learning (daily).
But I now believe that the “one shining moment” nonsense is an illusion. And it’s a mirage that I don’t dream about anymore. Because to me—perfection is unrealistic. And it can ruin the underrated beauty of reality every single time.
In fact, I dare say the pursuit of perfection can be dangerous. Because it keeps us from looking our life square in the eye and saying, “I appreciate every last part of you—the hard and the good—because you.are.imperfectly.mine, Life.” And after some very painful lessons that have revealed some strangely exquisite beauty. I’m finally starting to see my life exactly for what it is.
The other night, Babe #4 was behind on some reading. It was entirely self imposed. Teenage procrastination at its finest. And I’m not a Mom who will save you from easily avoidable misery. So he was floundering. And I went upstairs while he worked out the kinks.
But Babe #3 is tender hearted. Never leaves anyone behind. And all of a sudden, I heard her high pitched voice reading Babe' #4’s book out loud in our hearth room. And I wasn’t exactly sure what was happening. But I’ve come to know. That letting the teens work it out. Is just exactly what they need. And so I waited in my bedroom—catching up on blog posts and IG engagement. Hearing her voice floating through the vents for over an hour. But Babe #4 was oddly silent.
And then, just as suddenly, I heard her running up the stairs and her bedroom door close. So, friends—while I may have learned to stay out of it. I’m still pretty darn nosy. So I called her into my room. And I asked what she was doing down there for so long.
And she sweetly answered, “Reading Jonah’s book to him.” And I’m not gonna lie. My eyes welled up a bit (shocker), and I said to her, “Babe, I love your heart. You’re gonna make me cry.” And she laughed a little bit. And then sweetly replied, “I told him I was happy to read to him. If he’d rub my shoulders the entire time.”
And then I remembered that her innate sweetness. Is only surpassed by her shrewd, entrepreneurial spirit. And I laughed out loud. Because he got what he needed. And she got what she wanted. And everybody won. Including me.
But, friends, I’m here to remind you. That if you’re waiting for that one shining, altruistic, Hallmark moment with your own Babes. You’ll miss the most beautiful ones every single time. The moments that are hiding in plain sight. In the most mundane circumstances. On the most uneventful days. Because trust me on this, dear ones—that’s where all the ordinary goodness lives.
And so she cackled and hurried back to her room. Leaving me goofily smiling in her dust. And simultaneously remembering. That my girl is no fool. And in the very same breath—she reinforced that perfection is not what I long for anymore. Because real life trumps that blather every last time.
And while you may believe that my one shining moment is kind of dull and lackluster. I’ll just laugh and know. That the teens are alright. And so am I. Just exactly the way we are.