I remember those hard years with little ones; believe me I do. I had a 5 year old, 4 year old, 2 year old and a newborn once upon a time. I have these vague memories of living in the trenches with little ones. I call them "vague" because I often found myself in "survival mode", and by God's Grace "survival mode" memories often get erased.
Today, I find myself in a very important phase of motherhood that often goes unnoticed. It is this really funky phase that is REALLY hard. I totally have not been prepared for it. It hurts and yet at the same time there is great JOY in it. My nest is not empty, so nobody seems to care. My nest is just half empty. But, do you know something! Half empty is still really hard!!! I miss my 21 and my 19 year old. My oldest is in Germany for an internship, my 19 year old is living with her friend and is engaged to be married in June!! My 17 year old is graduating from our homeschool this year and I am still homeschooling a 15 year old.
Why Being A Mom Is Enough is a fabulous article about motherhood. In fact, it might the best article ever written because it gets to the core issue and the heart of being a mom. But, when I got to the end, I said "WAIT!!! What about me?" She ended the article like this:
" A mother is the person, the woman, just like you. The woman with little ones in her care that she loves, and sometimes wonders how she loves them because they’re driving her batty, but still she does. She fights, gives, prays, works, and doesn’t give up even when she wants to throw in the towel.
That’s you. Today. Tomorrow. Yesterday. I say that is enough. It is more than enough. You are amazing."
So, if the author does not mind, I have decided to add one more paragraph. It is intended for the mom who is like me. Please insert just before "That's you. Today. Tomorrow. Yesterday."
.... And after the "tucking in at bedtime" phase is over, once they start to grow wings, the mom is the branch from which they fly. The branch stays and and as the winds blow, she bends in prayer for those grown ones who have found their roost in another tree. They will return to visit, but your branch is now a place of comfort and rest, instead of a place they call "home".