I AM A MOTHER

Hey readers! Head on over to Antique Mommy and read her post about motherhood. I love Antique Mommy. LOVE. HER. And if I don't win that book, I'm totally buying it for myself.

Merry Christmas to me.

By the way, read ALL of Antique Mommy. She's lovely. And her little boy Sean? SWEET. HEART. I seriously want a five year old boy around here again.

After leaving my comment, I decided to hop back over here to my very own blog and expand on it.

Motherhood takes a toll on our bodies, regardless of how we become mothers. Nobody told me how motherhood would be an all encompassing physical attack, not just from the pains of childbirth but for every second that we are blessed to be called Mom. We feel motherhood in every inch of our bodies.

Let's start at the top, shall we.

The Brain. Motherhood makes your brain bend. Whether it's geometry, biology, or trying to figure out WHY? Why, did he think he could climb on the roof of the grade school? Why? Why did he think it was a good idea to set his army men on fire? Why? Why are there SEVEN bath towels on the floor of their bathroom. Why? Why won't my child's fever go down? And sometimes motherhood can make our brain explode. With anger, that is. Most of the time it's more like an IMPLOSION where we keep all the damage inside our head. Sometimes, though (and I hope I'm not the only one) it's a true explosion that sends splinters and shrapnel across the room - "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!?!"

The Eyes. For some reason, my eyes water a lot since I became a mother. Happy things, sad things, it doesn't matter. My eyes tend to water a lot for the past 17 years. Sometimes they twitch too, now that I'm a mother.

The Mouth. I admit it, since becoming a mother, certain words slip out that never would have slipped out before. Maybe once, my kids have heard me use a curse word, but I try to be very hypocritical and only utter those words out of their hearing.But motherhood makes us utter things we would not speak if our hearts weren't living outside our bodies. "You went poopie? Big boy-eee" "No, we cannot get a pet lizard. Or a hedgehog." "Don't pick your nose." "Be nice to your brother, you may need a kidney someday." "Seriously, kids. You're fighting over cereal?" "If you don't get BACK IN THAT BED..." "Of course Santa is real." "Never enter mommy and daddy's bedroom without knocking..." "Yes, you can wear cowboy boots with your shorts." "Pink mittens in May? Sure." "Running out of Mt. Dew is not an emergency. Don't call us again unless you're bleeding."

The Shoulders. Motherhood makes our shoulders strong but that strength does not come without pain. Whether we are toting a toddler while carrying a giant diaper bag, or feeling the weight of a teenage daughter's heartbreak, somehow our shoulders can manage it all.

The Spine. Sometimes it disappears while we raise our children. Does he really NEED that Cubs sweatshirt? No, but your spine has disappeared and you buy it. Does she really NEED to go to the movie again? No, but your spine has disappeared and you drive her. Did you think they'd outgrown hugging you? Yes, and your spine disappears when they do. Motherhood turns us into noodles.

And yet, the spine can reappear as needed. NO, she won't be going to that other school's homecoming dance. NO, he won't drive three hours on a Saturday night to watch a fight. YES, I will confront the adult who bullied my child. YES, I will fight the battle of modesty. YES, I will fight the battle of working to potential. NO. YES. Hopefully the spine makes its presence known when needed.

The Arms. Motherhood makes our arms ache. From the joy of holding our infants to the ache of emptiness when they no longer snuggle in them, our arms ache. My arms ache a lot these days.

The Hands. Motherhood makes our hands magic. Our hands touch burning foreheads, place band aids just right, hold down a screaming toddler during shots, frost cupcakes, catch bugs, swat bottoms, wipe noses, color maps, glue collages, place birthday candles, pat backs, tie shoes, struggle with tights, clap, clap, clap. And daily fold themselves together in prayer.

The Stomach. Motherhood makes our stomach weak. And strong. We can catch vomit in our hands and our stomach remains as steal. We can watch our child break a bone, and our stomach revolts. We can watch our child go to her first high school dance and our stomach does flip flops. My stomach does a lot of flip flops these days.

The Legs. Motherhood turns us into runners. Or not. We take baby steps when we're teaching our child to walk. We learn to run when they do. We can move at the speed of light to keep them out of the road or away from the stove. Our legs our horsies, jungle gyms, and arm rests for wobbly toddlers. They know every inch of the hallways of our child's school. They have climbed the bleachers a million times. They could outrun a freight train to save our child.

Our knees. Motherhood weakens our knees. Our knees go weak with worry when our child is sick, weak with relief when they are well again, weak with pride when they've succeeded. And weak with joy simply from seeing them smile and hearing them laugh. My kids' laughter still makes me weak in the knees and I'm sure it always will.

Our feet. Motherhood earns each of us a daily foot massage. Our feet walk the floor at night when our infant is ill - sometimes all night for several nights. They have held the weight of our children as they stand on our shoes to dance. They've paced the halls of hospitals and quickly walked out of church to quiet an angry toddler. They've made a path to the front door as we watch to see if he'll make curfew, and tiptoed around the Christmas tree to play Santa. They've stepped heavy on the gas pedal when our child is sick at school. They've gone without that perfect sandal when our child "needed" light up shoes (see THE SPINE).

And now, though it's closer to the top, the most burdened body part of mothers - THE HEART.

Motherhood makes our heart burst. Over and over again, our heart bursts. It bursts at the first sight of our child. It bursts at all of our child's firsts - first smile, first tooth, first step, first day of school, first date, first prom. It bursts with disappointment, sadness and even anger.

Motherhood makes our heart divide. Somehow our heart is able to divide itself and yet remain whole with each child that God places in our arms. Somehow our heart can be in two (or more) childrens' beds at night, two lunchboxes at grade school, two lockers at high school, two cars on the weekend, two sets of bleachers.

Motherhood is indeed a full body workout and, most of the time, it is my favorite form of exercise.