Super Glue

 "Everything beautiful has a story it wants to tell."

Peanut woke up this morning and said "Happy Mother's Day Mommy. My first present to you is snuggling. (30 seconds). Can we make a surprise breakfast for Daddy while he's sleeping???"

I've long accepted that Daddy is the prize around here.

He has never come through the door of our house without one child (often two) yelling "Daddy's home" and going running.

In almost 16 years of parenting, only crying newborns wanting to nurse have been excited to see me.

I read something this week that said that Mom is the glue, and Dad is the glitter.

It's true here.

Dad takes people to the movies and says yes to crazy things like popcorn that cost as much as a tank of gas. Dad wrestles on the floor and makes funny noises. Dad buys the funky brand of chips and the newest little debbies. Dad comes through the door spreading his glitter.

Mom is the glue.

Mom knows things like the number to the pediatrician and who goes to the dentist when. Mom knows that kid #3 needs to eat oatmeal every other day or she doesn't poop. Mom sets the wifi limits and knows how to check for things like finsta accounts and hidden apps. Mom can see illness coming two days in advance based on behavior or the look in their eyes. Mom knows when the tooth fairy needs to come, sends the mother's day card to the woman who birthed the glitter, and creates the intricate taxi schedule that makes the week work.

Glitter doesn't stick without the glue.

But no one sees the glue.

I realized this morning that the glitter/glue thing - it's my truth about motherhood.

I'm over here holding it all together.

But feeling unseen.

In reality though, who expects kids to appreciate the glue in the midst of the craft project?

My kids don't yell excitedly when I come through the door because it's understood I'm coming back. No one is surprised or caught off guard by it.

I'm a given.

There's something beautiful in that right?

The teenagers can yell at me and spout awful, ugly things. I'm believing they feel free to do that because I'm a given.

I'm going to love them unconditionally. After deactivating their wifi that is.

The wee one may run to the Daddy in the afternoons, but it's still "Mama" that she cries when she's had a nightmare, fallen with a scrape, or got her feelings hurt by a sibling.

I'm her home base.

Mama Warriors, as you wake on Mother's Day, perhaps you, like me, are sitting in a house where everyone else is sleeping and you have made home made donuts for the glitter while watching Notekins. Perhaps you are feeling like glue no one sees on a day you are supposed to be seen.

I think when we are the immovable glue in our kids life, we model the true love of Jesus.

I think my Jesus is okay with me yelling at Him in anger sometimes. He's okay with me questioning His path. He's okay with me feeling all the messy feels of life.

Because, He's my given. He's my home base. He's my glue.

Happy Mother's Day to all my Mama Warriors who are rocking the Super Glue today!