Motherhood is messy. It's sticky and grimy and sweaty. It's sacrifice. It's holding a sick child, knowing that that very holding will likely get you sick, and then leaning down to kiss their fevered brow anyway. It's reading Pat the Bunny for the 400th time, and still smiling when your child says "ooh, it's soft". It's diapers and potty training and sleepless nights. It's scraped knees and fevers and flu. It's tantrums and crying (sometimes even your children's). It's endless loads of laundry and constantly dirty floors. It's countless hours and vast sums of money spent in overly loud, garishly lit places with no windows watching other people's sugar-high children crash headlong into yours.
Motherhood is first smiles, and laughter, and that milk drunk look babies get after they've gotten their fill at your breast. It's butterfly kisses and learning to jump. It's abc's and twinkle twinkle and look what I drew mommy. It's licking the beaters. It's snuggles and hugs and a tiny hand in yours. It's learning to swim and new backpacks for school. It's fostering self-confidence and new skills. It's jokes and laughter and love. More than anything it's love. All powerful. Transcendent.
It's holding on tight. It's learning to trust. It's letting go.
This was written for MamaBlogga's September group writing project, on the theme "motherhood is".