more than "mommy"

At 7:13 in the morning, I have already been up for far more hours than I ever thought possible.  I have seen the sun rise, I have felt the cool of the day [in July, this is an accomplishment], and the sounds of the day have not yet begun.  Even on our busy city street, full of families, fireworks, and carpools - it's early enough, that quiet still wins out over the hustle and bustle.

I'm up because I'm mom.  Because the little man has decided that 5:18am is a great wake-up time.  When he's a teenager, and I'm the one crying and pulling with all my might to get him out of bed, I'll remind him of this.

Being a mother is one of the most precious experiences of my life.  It is also one of the hardest and most all-inclusively transforming that I have experienced thus far in my young life.  In that one beautiful, breath-taking, bloody, messy, sweaty, awe-filled moment, I went from being just Kristen to Mommy to a beautiful, messy, wonderful little boy.  And the transformation hasn't stopped since that moment...

Going in, I was told by countless women that already had kids - being a mom changes you.  And it does.  I was told, being a mom is hard, but also rewarding.  And it is.  I was told being a mom, you will experience a depth of love - the kind that would do anything for that tiny little human who has my father's eyebrows and my husband's smile - that you've never experienced before.  And I have.  When that little ball of rapidly growing fingernails and soft baby hair and ohhh so much drool smiles at me - I melt.  Even if he's had the worst possible day in the books, when he grins - the sun breaks through the clouds.  I love being a mom, plain and simple.  Way more than I thought I would.

But I don't want to be "just" mommy.  In the midst of all of that lovin' - I don't want to lose me.  Kristen.  As a daughter.  A friend.  A wife.  An individual.  With passions, dreams, goals, and desires.

And call me crazy, what with my nearly 6 months of ripe, mature, wise [read as: dripping with sarcasm, absurd-to-even-claim] expertise, but I think that's a healthy desire.  A good thing.  A place of blessing to my husband and to my child(ren).

What I don't mean is that I think it's a bad thing to be stay-at-home  mom.  That being "just" a mom is insufficient.  Nor do I mean that every mom needs to have a "role" outside of the home, or even inside the home, other than mom.  Mom is one of the biggest, bravest, best names that I will ever wear. It's one of the hardest and yet most fulfilling jobs I will ever do. It's not a job thing.  It's an identity thing.

Call me crazy, but I think it's actually a gift to my kids, to my husband, for me to be more than just a mom - for me to have identity outside of them.  That's a whole heck of a lot of world, of identity, to be placed on their shoulders and focused on them.  I think it actually frees me to be a better mom, and a better wife, [not to mention a better friend] when I remember who I am as a woman, as a daughter, as me.  Instead of looking to my relationships to tell me who I am - I am freed to offer all of who I am, to bring all of who I am.

It has been my experience thus far, and my observation, that often times when we women become mothers, our world narrows, focuses, and centers around our families.  We would give anything for them.  We, by choice or necessity, give up a lot for these small humans who depend on us for everything.  We have to become less selfish - because what baby crying at 3:31am understands or respects that the last thing in the world that mommy wants to do is be awake right now, even though she loves him immeasurably.  And it is out of a good, strong, beautiful, holy, love, that we make these sacrifices, that we give of ourselves, that our needs and wants take a backseat.

But here's my takeaway for the day - even in the midst of all that love, all that sacrifice, I think I, we, need to give ourselves permission to be a little bit selfish.  To sustain, grow, and even give time to, passions, dreams, and goals of my own.  Even if it's just 5 minutes a day, after the kiddo(s) is in bed for the seventh time, and before I crawl into my own bed.  To be intentional with blessing my family as I remember who I am as me, and invest in [a few] things that make me grow larger rather than smaller.

It brings life to my soul.

It frees me to offer all of who I am - because there is me to offer.

It frees me to be secure in who I am - even on the dog days of marriage, motherhood, and life when everything seems to be coming undone at the seams - because who I am is not defined by their perfection, performance, or appreciation of me.  I still know who I am, that I am called beloved.

It frees my family, to not have to carry the weight of my identity, as well as their own.

That's why I'm here, writing in the wee hours of the morning - because this is part of who I am and it brings life to my soul.  That's why not all [although many are] of my blogposts are about motherhood - because even though that's a big part of who I am, it's not all of who I am.  That's why I run.  Why I journal.  Why I make time in my day, even if it's just the commute, to remember, to pray, to dream my own dreams, not just my dreams for my child(ren) and family.

As a blessing to my family, myself, and others - all of who I am - fostered, cultivated, and grown.