By Esperanza DeLaLuz

“I am just a mom.” I hurt when I hear someone say that! Mothers do the most important job on earth when they raise healthy, happy, productive children. Abraham Lincoln, our great president, said, “All that I am, or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.”

What not everyone knows is that the angel mother to whom he refers is actually his stepmother. His birth mother died when he was nine and, the following year, his father remarried. Sarah had children of her own, yet she was a loving and devoted mother to all of the children, and she especially nurtured Abraham in his desire to learn and read. 

This is a comforting thought to those of us who are stepmothers, aunts, foster moms, and grandmothers, or who are in other positions of nurturing. The task of mothering is not only the province of those who give birth. To “mother”—which is defined as “to look after kindly and protectively”—is incredibly demanding, and just as incredibly—and critically—important. To mother is a noble task and those who participate in it, to any extent, are doing a great and valuable work.

However, in the midst of diapers, tantrums, mischief, and defiance, it may be a challenge to feel that one is engaged in a noble task. Often it feels like we are in “survival mode.” Roseann Barr once joked that if her children were alive at the end of the day, she had done her job as a mother. 

I know for every mother there are days which feel like that. On those days, it can help to remember Abraham Lincoln’s feelings about his “angel mother,” and recognize that someday it may be your influence that sways the world. 

The next time you are deciding whether to scrub the crayon mural off the wall or frame it, remember Sarah Bush Johnston Lincoln, and mother on!

Photo by Markus Winkler on Unsplash

“The homemaker has the ultimate career. All other careers exist for one purpose only—and that is to support the ultimate career.”  

 —C. S. Lewis 

Today when this world is so often in chaos, it is critical to remember what is important and what lasts. Too often the world, in general, demeans the role of homemaker. It sends the message that being a homemaker is what you do when you aren’t smart enough, strong enough, driven enough, or educated enough, to work outside the home. And that is clearly not the truth. 

Making a home is much more than cooking, cleaning, and washing—you can hire those things out, if you have enough money. But you can’t pay someone to be your child’s mother. You can hire a babysitter, even a nanny who becomes devoted to your child—but that child is still your child, and no one can love that child as you do, with love that is visceral, concrete, and unshaken. 

Homemaking is two words: home + making—making an environment where the people you love are able to grow and dream and feel safe. “There’s no place like home!” “Home is where the heart is!” Homemaking is creating a haven, a breathing space, and a refuge from the world. Homemaking is helping children build relationships with family, including parents, siblings, and God.

Being a mother has challenges; it is not a job for the weak or the lazy or the selfish… But women like me who have tendencies towards those things still become mothers — and then we see the miracle of how much motherhood helps us improve when those tendencies interfere with the well-being of our children! Suddenly, selfishness evolves into selflessly getting and doing and being whatever your child needs! Laziness is converted into opportunities to cuddle and sing, read stories and rock your little one to sleep. And weakness—well, legends are told of how weak women become tigresses on behalf of their children with no advance planning — it just happens in the moment of need!

So, making a home for your children—your family—that is comforting, safe, and clean is nice, but it’s secondary to the love you have for your family. You do it because your family needs it—and hopefully they appreciate it (and learn to help)—but loving comes first. So, when you stress about how little housework (or ANY other kind of work, really) you have managed to get done because you have spent your time mothering instead, think of this charming little poem:

Cleaning and scrubbing can wait ‘til tomorrow,
For babies grow up, we’ve learned to our sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs and dust go to sleep. 
I’m rocking my baby, and babies don’t keep.

Photo by Trung Nhan Tran on Unsplash

By Emily Perl Kingsley, included in the Washington State School for the Deaf newsletter

When you’re going to have a baby, it’s like you’re planning a vacation to Italy. You’re all excited. You get a whole bunch of guidebooks, you learn a few phrases so you can get around, and then it comes time to pack your bags and head for the airport.

Only when you land, the stewardess says, “Welcome to Holland.” 

You look at her in disbelief and shock saying, “Holland? What are you talking about? I signed up for Italy!”

But she explains there’s been a change of plans, that you’ve landed in Holland and there you must stay.

“But I don’t know anything about Holland!” you say. “I don’t want to stay!”

But stay you do. You go out and buy some new guidebooks, you learn some new phrases and you meet people you never knew existed. The important thing is that you are not in a slum full of pestilence and famine. You’re simply in a different place than you had planned. It’s slower paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy, but after you’ve been there a little while and you have a chance to catch your breath you begin  to discover that Holland has windmills. Holland has tulips. Holland has Rembrandts.

But everyone else you know is busy coming and going from Italy. They’re all bragging about what a great time they had there and for the rest of your life, you’ll say, “Yes, that’s what I had planned.” 

The pain of that will never, ever go away. 

You have to accept that pain, because the loss of that dream, the loss of that plan, is a very, very significant loss. 

But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn’t get to go to Italy, you will never be free to enjoy the very special, very lovely things about Holland.

By Samantha Allred

When my daughter was only a few weeks old, my husband and I were both exhausted, frustrated, and struggling to adapt to our new lives as parents. One day, I began scrolling through social media and was bombarded with posts about the COVID-19 pandemic. I began to feel overwhelmed with negativity and fear until I came across a video from one of my favorite comedians. I watched the video and laughed until I cried. I felt an enormous sense of relief. Like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I physically felt like I had more energy, and I mentally felt a renewed sense of hope and motivation.

This experience taught me about the importance of laughter. Life is full of difficult circumstances that can easily take over our lives and make us feel bombarded with negativity. However, laughter is strong medicine and has the power to replace those negative feelings with hope and light. It lightens your burdens, inspires hope, and strengthens your relationships. 

The goal is to find a way to incorporate humor and laughter into the fabric of your life, finding it naturally in everything. If you are struggling with this, you can start by listing what you are grateful for to help you consider the positive aspects of your life, and spending time with fun people who routinely find humor in everyday events, because laughter is contagious. 

Photo by Xavier Mouton Photographie on Unsplash