I think I surprised everyone, including myself, when I became a mother.
I took the role on with not just excitement but ability.
And although the task of mothering three girls is daunting, it doesn't scare me.
In fact, I delight in getting to be Piper, Taitum and Renly's Mommy!

I've since wondered how that happened exactly.
I certainly wasn't prepared for what motherhood would entail.
Was it just instinctively ingrained in me?
Like something switched on the moment I popped a baby out that caused me to be passionate about and capable of raising them?




I remember walking through the mall as an 8 or 9 year old girl.
My Mom, brother and I were on a mission for rubber boots.
I was old enough to be aware that we didn't have a whole lot of money.
And smart enough to realize the money my Mama pulled out to pay for our new boots was gift money given to her for a birthday or some such event.

"You're using your birthday money, Mom?", I asked incredulously.
"Yes.", she replied.
"But Mom, you're supposed to buy yourself something with that money!"
Her answer: "But you need boots."
Simple as that.




What was so logical to her seemed outright ridiculous to my young mind.
But then does a mother's heart ever really make sense?

How she would sing a requested rendition of "Baby Tender Love" at the end of a long, tiring day?
How she'd choose to stay home even though it might have made more financial sense to go to work?
How she wouldn't laugh at the hamster's funeral but take it all seriously and then haul out the egg dying kit to help heal our grieving hearts?
Or how she would scrounge up enough money to buy me the name brand jeans I had to have in order to 'be cool' (and which I inevitably would end up finding uncomfortable and not wear)?
How she'd agree to spend hours upon endless hours sewing together a wedding dress for a strong headed twenty year old who knew what she wanted and wasn't about to change her mind on a single thing?
How she would gladly get roped into all the projects that resulted from a hyper active nesting preggo?
Or how she would wait and grit her teeth and cry beside said preggo as she brings forth new life over and over again?
None of it makes a whole lot of sense until...

I became a Mom, too.

And yes, maybe some of it is maternal instinct.
But most of it is from having grown up next to a serving, giving, sacrificial and loving example.
Little did my Mama know.
With each memory she made, each thing she gave up to provide for us, each opportunity she took to help and hold, she was teaching me to be a good Mom to my girls.