They are not my problem; they are my children.

And if ever my seemingly incessant complaining and confessional-style oversharing has lead you to believe otherwise,

let me clear things up for you with this direct declaration:

Mothers can complain about their offspring AND still love like hell our kids -- better and more powerfully than you could ever imagine.

They are not my problem; they are my children,

and just because I often have to remind myself of that fact,

and maybe repeat it to myself over and over again when any of my three are having a moment,

doesn't mean I'm not f-ing grateful as all heck for them.

And it doesn't mean it's lost on me what a true blessing they and a life with them in it are.

Raising human beings isn't a job that mothers take lightly, hence, why motherhood feels so freakin' heavy to us.

Not always, no, but often.

Because

trying to grow as a person,

while trying to grow with a person,

while trying to raise a person

(or in my case, three),

is a feat -- one that often knocks me off of mine.

But I always get back up.

And I always will.

Because they are not my problem; they are my children.

And for

every minute

of every day

of the rest of my freakin' life,

I will always

get back up,

find more strength, patience, and a smile,

and love and support them with every fiber of my being.

THAT is a mother's promise.

THAT is this mother's promise.