I’m tired today.  Not soul weary or burned down or exasperated.  Just….tired.  Long weekend helping give a beautiful day to a beautiful bride.  Sick baby who cries all. night. long.  Until as the alarm is going off, he settles into nurse and tucks himself close to my chest and finally, finally breathes deep.

So, I’m tired.  Like, curl up on the couch and sleep with the baby on my chest and thank the Lord that it’s Columbus Day and Joshua will be next to me.

Forgive me for the lack of posting in this brief period of fatigue from yesterday and today, and instead join Rachel as she writes what my resonates so deeply in my heart today.

It won’t be long before he can’t be comforted just by me when he’s sick.  So while these days are long and torturous and sleepy, I can’t bring myself to wish them away.

I didn’t read that book.  You know the one.  The one every other expectant mother reads.  And I didn’t follow my progress week by week and I didn’t chronicle myself in pictures and I didn’t make cute signs detailing how big baby was at week 27 and week 32 because by the time I got ready to deliver, I was pretty sure I was going to be pushing out a baby the size of a watermelon anyway.

The truth is, though, I really didn’t know what to expect.  I thought I did.  I’m the oldest of seven kids, so I’d been around a lot of babies.  In my mind, I figured if it was good enough for my mom, it was good enough for me, and I’d watched her and bathed and rocked and fed my sisters almost as much as she had.

So I thought.

Then I became a mother on a beautiful fall afternoon in mid-September and at first I thought motherhood was everything I’d expected and more.  I’d gotten my sweet baby girl with her daddy’s lashes and plenty of dark hair to hold a bow and now I was a mama and this was what I expected life to be.

Until the afternoon I sat in the floor of my bedroom and held her and she cried and I cried and I couldn’t make her content and I realized this is what motherhood really is.

I thought I was ready.  I thought I knew what was coming. I had expectations.

Thank God that eight years later I’m realizing that those expectations are so much less than reality.  At least, they are when I open my arms to embrace what I’ve been given.

I’m linking up with the Nester this month to write about one topic for 31 days.  If you don’t want to miss any of my ramblings on motherhood, scroll down and sign up to get Grits and Grace in your email inbox.  If you’re writing on one topic, comment and let me know, I’d love to venture over your way!  If you’re a regular or a visitor, I’d love to hear your thoughts on motherhood or anything else.

So today when I found out about The Nester’s 31 Days project, I knew I had to get on board.  I love to write.  I love a plan.  I scribble notes and blog ideas and story outlines and bits of bad poetry on post-its, in my agenda, throughout spiral notebooks, on backs of napkins…but I rarely make any (much less all) of those ideas happen.

Which is why I need accountability.

So I’m linking up (hopefully not too late) with the 31 Days plan to write about one topic every day for thirty-one days.

I got started this morning without even realizing it.

I also attempted to make a buttony-thingy, but I think it needs some work.

31 Days of Embracing Motherhood

All of it.  Even when I don’t want to.  Even when I want to escape into someone else’s words.  Even when I’m tired.  Even when I think I have nothing profound or funny or inspiring or interesting to say.  I’ve been a long time coming to this, to settling into the idea that being a mom doesn’t mean I’ll know every answer, doesn’t mean I’ll love being with my kids all the time, doesn’t mean I’ll be able to fix every problem.

Being a mom does mean I’ll come face-to-face with my own imperfections, my own shortcoming, my own pride and I’ll lock myself in the bathroom and cry.

It means I’ll wonder every day if I’m doing anything right and I’ll pray every night that God will fix all my mistakes, so that no matter what, my kids will know I love them.

Being a mother is a journey, a marathon, a quest.  Join me for 31 days?