All day long, I’m on a mission. Whether it’s picking up pieces of lint, dried leaves, or the remnants of snacks that my toddler has scattered across the floor, I’m constantly shoving things into my pockets. More crumbs, wrappers, bits of plastic, and tiny shoes find their way into my depths.
And no, I’m not a hoarder or a compulsive organizer. I’m just a mom. To clarify, I’m the mom of a curious 1-year-old boy who believes everything is a snack, and a 3-year-old girl who has more tiny toys than I ever thought possible—especially now that her brother is on the scene. So, as I scoop all these items into my pockets, it’s all about keeping them safe. I often find myself rescuing bits from my son’s mouth before they get tucked away, because let’s be honest, the trash can is just too far away.
At the end of each day, I empty my pockets, and the collection of debris serves as a reminder of the relentless, yet vital, nature of motherhood. “Mom” should absolutely be a verb. If it were, I could simply reply to the question, “How was your day?” with, “I mom-ed all day.”
In that exchange, other mothers would immediately understand the exhaustion, the joy, and the conflicting feelings that come with this role. You’re drained yet exhilarated, worried about losing your mind but captivated by the wonder of the lives you’re nurturing. You’re never truly alone, yet you can feel an aching loneliness. You oscillate between being blessed and feeling bored, often wishing for a moment of sanity while still cherishing the mundane yet extraordinary moments.
I’m not ashamed to admit that I look forward to the two days of work I get each week. They provide a stark contrast to my usual routine, allowing me to cross items off my to-do list with ease. I can use the restroom when I need to, and I can keep my space organized—my pockets stay empty. Yet, even on those days, I’m still mom-ing. Isn’t that amusing? No matter where I am, my heart is still with my kids, and I miss them dearly.
Being a mom means you never truly clock out. There are no breaks or shortcuts, and every mom with older kids will remind you to enjoy every fleeting stage, even when it feels like you’re just collecting lint and tiny doll shoes. But amidst the chaos, I’ve found that everything matters. Being intentional about my presence transforms my experience.
Last year, I often found myself wondering where the time went. It was easy to get lost in the whirlwind of daily tasks while my mind drifted elsewhere. I was physically present but mentally absent, caught up in my never-ending to-do lists. I refuse to preach the phrase, “enjoy every moment,” because let’s be real—who enjoys cleaning up dinner off the floor? But I do advocate for seeking out the meaningful moments and living with intention.
Today, I’m leaving my phone in another room to resist the urge to scroll through social media mindlessly. I’m taking time for a pedicure and enjoying a glass of wine because I’m still the woman I used to be. When you embrace the present, you realize something extraordinary: while you’re still that lint-collector and laundry-doer, you’re also the architect of your own days and your children’s lives.
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In summary, being a mom is a verb that encapsulates the daily chaos, joy, and growth that come with nurturing little ones. It’s about collecting moments—both big and small—and intentionally living through them.