Oops. I Became a Mom.

I imagine that *if* people that know me or knew me ever talk about me, it might sometimes go something like this:

“Oh yeah, she has FIVE kids now!”

“What? No, not her. I’m talking about the girl who….”

“Yeah, that’s her. She’s married and has five kids.”

“No. There’s no way. Don’t you remember that one time…”

“Yes. That’s her. I’m telling you. She’s married with a bunch of kids.”

That could maybe go on for a while, but you get the idea.

You see, I don’t recall ever really “wanting” kids. I think I did want them eventually, after I- you know- conquered the world and stuff. I was going to either get a super-awesome job like in one of those super-awesome movies I always watched. Or I would basically be Sandra Bullock. I would move to New York or LA and become an actress of sorts. I’d also travel the world on mission trips for humanity and then eventually, when my biological clock started ticking, I would either just adopt a kid or two who needed a mom or if I found someone I wanted to marry (let’s be real, that should say: “who’d want to marry me”), we’d have kids. (But I’d keep conquering the world, FYI.)

I think that’s basically how I envisioned my life when I was younger. But as my “normal” life continued to be “normal,” I started not being as opposed to all those “normal” things. I moved along- sometimes kicking and screaming [sometimes literally] – got married, was a mediocre [sometimes horrible] wife, unexpectedly (because even though I was married, that didn’t mean I had to start having kids anytime soon!) got pregnant with Baby #1 and then things just went on from there. Baby #2 came quickly after Baby #1. (My body has this resistance to birth control, I’ve learned. Especially when you forget to use it *exactly* as directed.) Baby #3 was actually on purpose, as was Baby #4, which came with Bonus Baby #5. {Twins! B1G1Free!} So here I am. Thirty-four years old with five kids being a person I never thought I’d be and a person I often don’t feel I’m very good at being.

My kids are amazing. They are beautiful [handsome] and smart and brilliant at times. They are also sassy and lazy and bratty at times. They get it all honest, I guess. I love them so fiercely. But I’m not the mom who gets super-sentimental all the time. I’m the mom who will share the cynical, sarcastic Mother’s Day video on social media (like this one) before the sweet, sentimental one (like this one), even though I did watch both and that sweet one did make me cry a little.

I stood in the shower today thinking, “Why am I here?” Not in the ‘I don’t want to be here’ kind of way, but just the ‘Wow. This is crazy. God really had some different things in mind for me and I need to figure it out and embrace it’ kind of way.

So here’s to all the moms who just kind of tripped and “fell” into this “Mom” thing, but are still doing our best and loving our families with all we’ve got. I, myself, am still conquering the world. A much tinier world. With a lot of grace. And a lot of help.

Happy Mother’s Day, 2017.

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