Family Life

I learned something today. I learned that I am a strong woman. I have never perceived myself as particularly strong before. I am more the shy, retiring type. I am not full of attitude, I am not full of strong words, I am not even full of anger. I am placid, laid back, and mostly easy going. But I am strong. I am stronger than I ever knew. I know this now because I am the mother of a 2-year-old. I am no longer the mother of an infant or a baby but now a toddler.

She is a walking opinion with a question about everything and a song for every other minute. She has an excuse for every thing she does and she insists that she is "too little" to pick up her toys or eat her vegetables. I have seen these toddler- type kids before. I have babysat them, been their older sister, and even played with them voluntarily at times. I have never been a mother to one though. It is a whole different playgroup when you're the mom.

Suddenly I can't give her back when she's tired or hungry. I don't get paid for watching her or training her go to the bathroom. And she is now my responsibility for the next 16 or so long, long years. It seems that she went from baby to toddler almost overnight. She went from a helpless, barely walking and never talking little bundle of joy to an independent, running, jabbering, tall and lanky great big bundle of joy. Joy, yes, but other emotions as well. She brings out lots of emotions that I didn't even realize I had so strong inside of me.

Things like impatience and aggravation, laughter and protectiveness, creativity and strength. She told me the other day (after weeks of potty training) that she was not "going on the potty anymore. I'm wearing diapers now." Then there was the time she colored all over her wall with crayon and her carpet with marker because she didn't want to take a nap. And of course the inevitable stall tactics at bedtime. Ah bedtime, that eternal struggle of wills.

The will of the mom and dad pitted against that barely 3-feet tall terror who has the lung capacity of a blue whale and the energy of a tornado. She needs to brush her teeth, have a drink, read a story, have another drink, fix her blankets, find the perfect thing to sleep with, pray, pray again, have mom and dad pray, kiss, hug, kiss, hug, and then just as we leave she pops up with one more question or just one more request. This is bedtime and it can be more exhausting than the rest of the day put together.

At times I think that I must be the worst mom in the world. I get impatient. I get angry. I even get tired. And then I think all I have is one kid. What happens when we have 2 or 3? How can I deal with more laundry than we already have? How can I wash more dishes or clean up more messes?

As the exhaustion from these thoughts sets in I usually collapse on the couch in utter defeat and think that God will probably never give me any more kids anyway. Why would He? I can barely do the job I'm supposed to with the one I have. It is at these times that I feel the weakest but inevitably learn how strong I am. Because it is at these times when I feel the worst that my little girl ends up needing me the most. When she wets her pants (again) or gets sick, or falls down, or has a bad dream I am the one she wants. When she needs help or wants to know something she comes to me. And as tired or discouraged as I may be I can always kiss away the tears, answer the questions, change her clothes, or soothe the fears of that little tornado.

I have learned that I can always go on and I always have the strength the meet the needs of my little one. I am a superwoman of sorts. I may be sick, I may be tired, I may be sad, or I may even be angry but those emotions and feelings are nothing compared to the feelings that arise when that little girl needs something or even wants something. I have the ability to rise above the exhaustion and to cast away the anger. I can overcome the sickness, and I can change the sadness to a smile all for my little girl. Of all the emotions in the world love is the strongest.

The love of a mother for a child is an amazing bond that cannot be explained. It cannot be severed and it is based on the love of a God that supersedes all else. There are women in this world who have more kids than I and have more on their plates than I ever will. They are in situations that require more of them than they can give sometimes. They feel that they cannot be all their children need. They cannot be home with them. They cannot provide all that they want. They do not feel like a superwoman of any sorts. I respectfully disagree.

I hold to the opinion that mothers are superwomen. Mothers who work to provide for their kids, mothers who stay at home with their kids, mothers who are busy and maybe do not have as much time as they want, and mothers who are, like me, emotional and at times discouraged. We are all superwomen. All of us are the ones that mold and shape our children. We are the ones they need when they are tired or hurting or sick.

Moms are truly the glue that holds our families together. There is nothing we cannot do for our kids and nothing that we would not do. We are superwomen. We are stronger than we know. Now I have learned that I am full of attitude, full of words that are at the same time strong and soothing, full of both anger and love, and full of enthusiasm and exhaustion. A mother's life is one that is a paradox of many emotions and a crazy ride that includes moments of incredible joy and moments of despair. But as my two-year-old so aptly says, "We're having great big fun!"

About the Author

Amy Browning is a young stay-at-home mom.  E-mail her at browning@iland.net.