Today I am 30 years old.
I married a good man. We have three kids, the youngest of which arrived two weeks ago. In this rare moment where I have time to myself to write, I’m wondering what to say. The first and most important task of any great mother is to select a great father. With three children in four years, that has been my most successful play by far. All my weaknesses and arrogances have surfaced and been exposed. I am physically and intellectually much more average than I allowed myself to believe before. He makes up for all that. I am vain and petty. I spend far too much time thinking about attaining comfort items and material goods than I do thinking about other people and what I can be doing for them.
But still the great majority of my time every day is spent serving these four people God has placed in my life, especially the little three.
My mom came to visit immediately following my daughter’s birth. I am lucky to have her. She entertained and watched the kids, held the baby so I could do other things—or anything else at all rather. She did laundry, deep cleaned dark corners of our apartment, endured being six people in a two bedroom apartment. She took my oldest to the movies and to get a haircut. And much much more.
Good moms save the world. For all her sacrifices in raising me and the continued efforts she’s made in sustaining a relationship amid turmoil and disagreements I feel the need to thank her. I understand now its not easy raising kids. In fact I think it takes supernatural assistance to do the right thing all the time.