You know, I think it’s funny that a woman’s success as a mother is often weighed by the success of her children. Somehow, that just doesn’t quite seem fair, especially when the return on all we have invested in our children is sometimes (very) slow.
But it’s an investment we make anyway, we mothers, through our love and our tears and our time, our aching (and altered) bodies, our sleepless nights, our sacrifices, our lukewarm and half-eaten dinners, and our cups of coffee that are brewed with anticipation and then, forgotten, go cold before we get a chance to take a sip.
I look at my beautiful babies, and I see how richly the investment of my mothers (yes, plural) has paid off, and I feel so abundantly blessed.
My Momma Dawn gave me my life, my creative streak, my stubborn nature, and taught me the meaning of sacrifice.
My Mom, Jayne, gave me my wings and all the opportunities I needed to grow and evolve and find my own way.
My Step-Mom, Wendy, gave me her time and her unconditional support and acceptance.
My Mother-in-law, Diane, gave me an amazing husband and father for my children, and the best damn sauce recipe in the world.
But, perhaps most importantly, each of these incredible women taught me an important lesson on what it means to love.
And all I wish is that I can somehow pass all of these beautiful things along to Cadence and Henry. If I am half the woman my mothers are, I’ll be doing one helluva job.