I see you there, mama.

Aching with tired and the desperate hope for a few moments alone today. I see you cleaning that carpet again. I see those dishes that are on a constant rinse and repeat cycle; the laundry in the dryer that's been restarted multiple times already today. 
 

I see you wondering where the melody is in this repetitive rhythm of motherhood. I see you measuring your day in inches as the years stretch ahead in long miles. And sometimes I see you sit there and stare into space and wait to find the meaning in it all.

Growing into motherhood is like feeling perpetual growing pains. 


For the days that you don’t. For the days that someone demands another glass of chocolate milk or someone else needs to be changed first. For the days when the dryer buzzes before you finish your thoughts.

You are the deeper meaning you’re looking for. You are becoming a mother. And mothers are forged not born.

Growing can be slow going. But it is never meaningless. You are becoming; and you are doing a fantastic job