It’s What Moms Do

My Mom, sister, and me

When you have a mom who is present,

and loving,

and invested,

and dedicated….

it’s easy to take her for granted.


The late night feedings, showerless days, and sleepless nights…have long since been forgotten.

The battling of a feisty little will in the grocery store…has faded.

The busy school days filled with homework, activities, and getting dinner on the table…have become an unrecognizable blurr.

The teenage years when you pushed away and criticized…have been forgiven.


You always believed her constant sacrifices were just part of being a mom.


She cooked balanced meals, turned off the television, and expected homework to be complete.

She served dinner at the kitchen table and you ate together as a family.

She made certain your uniform was clean before the next game.

She carted you around to friends’ houses, rehearsals, and appointments.

She showed up at your soccer games to cheer you on.

She cared about the details of your life unlike anybody else.


It’s what moms do, you told yourself.


She painted your room and decorated accordingly, always making you feel treasured.

She filled Easter baskets to overflowing with chocolate bunnies, jellybeans, and a brand-new kite.

She festively wrapped Christmas gifts and carefully wrote your name on each package.

She prepped delicious holiday meals and planned fun family vacations.

She hosted birthday slumber parties and served hot pancakes, eyes still heavy with sleep.


Well duh, of course.  She’s my mom.


She shopped frugally.

She rocked a used granny mobile, Maaco-painted a startling shade of yellow.

She payed for braces so you’d have a beautiful smile.

She socked away funds for college tuition instead of spending on her own wants.


None of it ever phased me as remarkable.

Somehow I developed a warped sense of entitlement.


She drove you off to college and kept calling when you selfishly grew too busy.

She believed in you when you began to doubt yourself.

She took  you shopping for that new outfit and treated you to lunch.

She  always wanted more for you, than what she had for herself.


I grew to expect this.

I didn’t fully comprehend.


And maybe you can’t…

Perhaps it’s impossible to fully appreciate your mom until you have become a mom yourself.

You can’t understand that motherhood is not a duty that all mothers rise to, nor feel obligated to fulfill.


Motherhood is a series of choices.

Lots and lots of selfless choices.

Choosing to love you, her child, over herself.


And maybe you never really let her know,

over all these many years,

just how much you appreciate her.


It’s all she’s ever really longed to hear…

That you love her.

That you understand the sacrifices she made…

and continues to make…

to be your mom.

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