I am great at beginning things: books, projects, movies, exercise regimens, dinner. I am not great at finishing things.

Somewhere along the way, I lose interest, momentum, motivation, courage.

I get bored. Or distracted. Or scared. Or determine that the thing I have set out to do is bigger than I am. Too big to do perfectly, so not worth doing at all. Over the course of my life, I have created dozens of characters in my mind, come up with plot lines for several children’s books, toyed with the idea of getting a pixie cut, walked away from something (or someone) because I thought there was something (or someone) else better on the other side. Sometimes there was.

Usually there wasn’t.

A few days ago, my oldest son — the little boy with the pale blue eyes who made me a mother — turned seven. As I do every year on his birthday, I took some time to reflect and sit in gratitude for the unimaginable privilege I have of being his mother.

And this is what came to mind.

I am grateful that I cannot walk away from motherhood, because sometimes I wish I could. Over the past seven years of raising three children, there have been moments when I have definitely lost interest in mothering. I’ve lost momentum. Motivation. Courage.

I have lost my mind with boredom. Been distracted by thoughts of my pre-baby life. Been scared. Determined that motherhood is too big for me. Something that I will never do perfectly.

Sometimes all I need to reset into motherhood mode is a few hours away from the kids. Lunch with my sisters or a mani/pedi. Sometimes it take much more than that. Sometimes the only thing keeping me tethered to them is a sense of deep responsibility. I go through the motions for several days before I fully recover a genuine enthusiasm for mothering.

And after seven years, I’ve realized that that’s okay.

—————————————————————

Because what I always come back to is a profound and unconditional love for these little boys.

—————————————————————

Because what I always come back to — whether it’s been a few hours or a few days since I last felt my Mama Mojo — is a profound and unconditional love for these little boys. I settle back into a sense of wonder that God chose me to be their mother.

And that is enough to ground me, so that even if I want to walk away from them sometimes, I know I never will.