When the Moment Arrives, I Own It.

It wasn’t anything earth-shattering. To other types of mamas perhaps, it could even be considered insanely ridiculous that this moment would arrive at such a completely mundane time.

It was after 9 PM. I had been folding a couple loads of laundry that had piled high in the basket after being neglected for the last 12 hours or so.  I had been watching some Tivo’d Glee that I had let the viewing fall behind on due to some really nonsensical and insulting story lines that had been interjected into my beloved theater geeky, heartwarming, formerly-consistent evening pleasure.  A commercial break. And instead of forwarding through it, I took the moment to go deliver a pile of clothing to my girls’ room.

I clicked on the hallway light but left their room dark.  I walked in over their pink rug that defined their main floor/Barbieville/Miley-Cyrus-dance-party/SqueakieCentral/Lego-City/emergency veterinary/art gallery/play-space that I had worked hard to clean a few hours before.  I stood at their dresser, pulled open their drawers and started lying in articles of freshly laundered and folded clothing into their designated spots.  I glanced over, with the dim hallway light streaming in, and there they were.

My girls.

All long-limbed and tangled in rainbow-colored polka dot sheets and a white puffy comforter affectionately dubbed “The Dream Cloud” snoozing soundly away after a solid weekend filled with a Gnomeo and Juliet viewing, a trip to Shakey’s, a Target adventure, a ballet class, an Irish Dance performance, a trip to the library, treats of frozen yogurt AND ice cream, and plenty of deck-dancing, succulent planting, computer playing, and enough imagination to last a lifetime.  And the cherry on top of our delicious family sundae weekend was the highly-anticipated finale of our four-part bedtime story series which I had started five nights before.  I think I want to end more nights with homespun tales of ridiculous proportions. I don’t think the girls and I have ever laughed quite so hard as we did these past few nights during our off-the-cuff storytelling.

So as I glanced and bent to lay in some of their school uniform shorts and t-shirts into the bottom right drawer where they are stashed, this moment arrived.

The kind of moment I had feared would never come when I first found out I was going to become a mother. The kind of moment I doubted was meant for me. The kind of moment I rarely have because I have struggled to truly become a mother, from the inside. I feel too often that I am an outsider looking in. That I’m still MYSELF too much of the time.  I feared this before pushing out my first child. That I was too selfish to really be a good mother. That so many other women had so much more to give. Or at least were so much better at being graceful about the giving. About the complete and utter surrender that is being a mama. The surrender that I face again and again at every single dawn and fight all the way to the end of each and every day only to usually collapse into a heap at the end knowing I’m a better soul for the struggle.

So yeah, the moment.

As I laid those uniform shorts and t-shirts into the drawer, I felt it rise within me.  A feeling of a peaceful warrior winning the battle that I wage within. A feeling of success. A feeling of complete and utter content.

I’m doing this. I’m a mother and I’m doing this. I’m succeeding. I’m a good mom.

I know, I know. You wouldn’t think a trip to the library, an improv series of bedtime storytelling and a few clean clothes could make me feel this way. But it did.

It’s been a little over  2 1/2 hours since this moment arrived, and I’m still basking in it.

I can do this thing.

Here’s to a week filled with some moments for all you good mamas out there.

P.S. I found the “laundry” image for my post’s header on this cool site, Right On Walls. Check it.

13 Responses to “When the Moment Arrives, I Own It.”

  1. Gorgeous.
    You and them and this.

  2. Laura phelps says:

    Oh Lee…
    I can’t believe you just had this moment now

    You are so cool
    So awesome
    In so many ways
    I sooooo admire you

    And I
    Miss you!!!

    Hope you’re still in the moment

  3. Love this! I need to sit in this space a bit myself.

  4. Amy Sims says:

    Hooray! You posted and did it so beautifully I might add!!!!

    You are a damn GREAT mother my friend. You need never ever, ever doubt yourself again (and your girls and boy are living proof)!

    Keep basking in it….

  5. Ash says:

    Sigh. And this is why I miss your writing so much.

    “That I’m still MYSELF too much of the time.”

    You’ve finally put my nagging fear into words.

    But then we find ourselves lovingly folding laundry or outside playing a soccer scrimmage and realize we have come a long way, mama. And we are ALL better because of it.

    I too hope that glow has lasted. It should.

  6. Alexandra says:

    I feel this all the time.

    I wish I felt more moments like you’ve captured here.

    I have to create them, I know.

    I have to rise up the occasion.

  7. Tabitha Blue says:

    Oh this is perfect! Sometimes it’s those mundane moments at home that make up the most spectacular. It’s the times out with the family, the laughs, the struggles… that make times cuddling in bed, or folding laundry and watching our littles sleep so extra special. GREAT post! 🙂


  8. great feeling. hope you’re still there!

  9. ash says:

    Just dropping in to say hi.


    Things are crazy. Hope your world is spinning well 🙂

  10. Ann's Rants says:

    Leane. I adore you and your words and your TRUTH.


  11. jessica says:

    so weird b/c honest to goodness I was just thinking about you the other day and what an awesome mom you are and how much I would love to be your kid.

    You are an amazing woman and mother and friend and I’m so grateful to know you.


  12. *le sigh*

    I remember those moments. Secret, prophecy fulfilling moments.

    These days it’s “I can’t believe I’m doing THIS!” (our youngest was dx’d w/cancer just over two years ago)

    I long for those moments of complete satisfaction. Utter bliss in rearing life.

    So pleased to know that you have chronicled this. Reminds me that I’ll feel this again, too.

    With love.

  13. I love reading this, Lee. I love picturing it all, and picturing you reveling in your moment.

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