On motherhood

In honor of Mother's Day, a Facebook campaign started such that if you were tagged by another mom, you were supposed to post a picture that made you happy and proud to be a mom.

This proved too difficult for me.

I looked through some photos and found a handful where we managed to catch everyone together or where kids were smiling at the camera. But the best part of any picture is always the story behind it. Like this one taken at a professional photo shoot on a 90-degree day last summer. Why DJ loves to put his hands on our heads during pictures, I'll never know. But I do know that Kevin and I were laughing because we were on a floating dock, and when we all stood on one end we sunk so low we were standing in several inches of pond water.

In the end, I just couldn't find the right picture. And really, could a picture capture what makes me happy or proud to be a mom? Are those even the right words? The more I thought about it--and I clearly thought too much about it--the less sure I was.

Here's what I can say: I feel a deep sense of gratitude and humility when I look at our 4.5 kids and remember the two years waiting to get pregnant the first time, wondering if we might never be able to have children of our own. Or when I think, as I do often, about our friends who have or are long-suffering through infertility. I have no idea why I was gifted this life, and all I can do is be thankful.

And what makes me proud? Every moment I catch a glimpse of one of these little ones doing something to suggest that somehow, we've improved humanity a tiny bit. When they do or say something to suggest they are more brave, more kind, more thoughtful, more generous, more faithful, and less prejudiced than I am at my deepest core.

No picture--or math test, medal, trophy, or diploma, for that matter--can show that.