Happiness on Mothers Day

My thoughts on motherhood, written way too late at night when I should be sleeping:

Here I am, a mother. I walked into the hospital one person—in my maternity pajamas—and came out another. Now I am wearing pants that last fit me sometime in my third month, cleaning out a purse loaded with diapers and wipes (some new, some USED), and marveling at my newly developed forearm muscles from nursing my baby 5 hours a day.
But more has changed than my clothing and my accessories. I have changed. I have transformed. I have fallen in love with a creature that weighs no more than my gym bag and has ears like my mother’s. I am weepy. I am elated. I feel as though I have been let in on the secret of the universe: Babies. My baby.
Now I understand. The mother summoning the strength to lift a truck off her son: of course. My sister-in-law not letting me hold her new daughter until I completely disinfected myself: perfectly normal. I even understand my mother. Well, I will never understand her penchant for impulse purchases and aversion towards new technology, but I do, finally, understand the breadth and depth of her love for me.
What is really important is suddenly clear. If my priorities are in a pyramid, my baby is at its pinnacle, with everything else falling into place beneath her....clean house is at the bottom, personal hygiene and world news in the middle, lunch dates to catch up with people I don’t really care about - gone entirely.
My husband isnt on the pyramid... he is right next to me, with the same pyramid in mind. We are co-founders of our McKell family. Our child is the focal point of our lives.
Mothers Day is traditionally established as a day to honor mothers.
But today - my first mothers day -I find myself, more than ever, thanking my Heavenly Father for this great opportunity and calling of Motherhood.






and yes... this is a picture of me blogging. I am blogging a picture of me blogging. I should take a picture of me blogging about taking a picture of me blogging.