From the very moment we realize that we are bringing another life to the world, we experience a multitude of emotions, this includes fear, joy, and for some even sadness. But as our bodies grow with life and we feel the kicks and turns; we already know part of the baby’s personality. We can tell if that child will be exuberant about life and what it has to offer. Even the cravings will shed some light on the child’s future appetite. And when that day arrives that we suffer the joy of our very first day of motherhood; nothing compares to it. Nothing. And no matter the stockpile of diapers, wipes, clothes, toys, helping hands, and other miscellaneous items…we are still never fully prepared.

You see, unlike those flat screen tvs, SPSs (1,2, and 3), and every single thing that we have ever purchased that came with that little booklet; motherhood doesn’t come with a user’s manual. We rely on love, instinct, advice, and when in moments of complete confusion; we call our mothers. These mothers can be our own mothers, grandmothers, aunts, and sisters (and sister-friends) with children. We reach out to all trusted sources and for the ones that have to walk the road of single parenthood; we shoulder the responsibility with extra doggedness. We attempt to fill that void that we know will be missed terribly at some point in that child’s life.

But, we move on. Celebrating them. Bathing them. Cuddling them. Coddling them. Supporting them. And most of all loving them.

From that very first breath taken to scream at the world, “I’m here! Now, wipe this stuff off of me and wrap me up…I’m cold!”...to that first birthday when all they care about is the cake…

to the walk across the stage and that walk along their chosen path in life; whatever it may be.

You see…we celebrate those today that have given life and given up part of their life, but the job is never done. The requirements of the job may change; but, there will never be a clock out on this job. Our handwritten manuals still have empty pages to fill. Even when the house is silent and ‘his/her’ room becomes a spare room…we still have pages to fill. Instead of cries in the night for nourishment or tears of pain from a tumble from a bike, we will have cries for wisdom and tears from a bad tumble with love and life…we still have pages to fill.

So, on this day that we celebrate our mothers…continue to love and cherish her. Because even though we may have a piece of plastic in our wallets that state that we are legally ‘grown’, remember…we are still learning, we are still growing, we still tumble and Mom? She still has pages to fill.

-kj