deeply  rooted motherhood


So, This Is 24

I don’t know about you, but I am a huge fan of birthdays. I really enjoy celebrating the gift of life that God has so graciously given, and I enjoy acknowledging the admirable qualities I see in my friends & loved ones on their day. I also appreciate being celebrated on my own birthday, I won’t lie about it! Growing up, my parents had a plate that said “My Special Day,” and we only got the privilege of using it on our birthday. It was so exciting to see that confetti-background piece of plastic at dinner, always full of mom’s chicken noodle casserole, my favorite meal. As a words of affirmation girl {my love language}, my heart is filled to the brim on April 11 each year by those close to me through what they say to and about me. 

Confession: I legitimately forgot my birthday was coming until my mom said something about it a week ago. This has never happened in all my life, haha. I guess that’s what happens when you have an almost three-month old & the fact that it was even April hadn’t yet registered to you. #mombrain

Thanks to aforementioned baby, my “special” day has really been quite normal - and I have treasured every second of it.

I woke up at 4:30am because she needed to be changed and fed. I was spoiled in that she actually went back to sleep until 9am {all the praise hands} and my sweet hubby got up and cooked me a marvelou breakfast, which he is very good at, I might add. But then he went to work like any other day. I fed Ada and read the Bible on my phone out loud to her, and worked out while she took a nap {real talk - on day 2 of adding this to my routine so don’t think for a second I have my life together hahaha}. I was planning to vacuum because our floors are strug-gle-ing, but there was a random power outage in our area {?!} for a few hours, so I loaded the babe up and we headed to Target. Ada spit up all over my shirt right before we left the house & I straight up left it because I knew it was bound to happen again {zero shame}. I spent a solid hour in the children’s book section casually trying not to cry and becoming waaaaay sentimental for no reason. I couldn’t control myself at the dollar spot this time because all the spring things are the stinking CUTEST, but I just passed it off as a forgivable birthday offense. Ada Bee woke up, and I fed her while sitting in the parking lot because every mama knows how precious a silent car ride home is & that was not about to happen with this hungry bug. Naturally, there was a Starbucks run involved as well. When we got home, I took out the trash, checked the mail, paid some bills, and played with the dogs outside while we waited on daddy to arrive so we could go out to dinner at Red Lobster {Jesus, please bless the dear human who created the recipe for those biscuits, amen}.

Dinner didn’t go how I’d hoped, to be frank. Ada {who usually falls asleep in the car and doesn’t wake up or make a peep whenever we go out} insisted on being held by only me the entire time we were there. She got really fussy & became that baby {you know the one} & nursing didn’t really seem to help {also uncharacteristic of her}. It was awkward and I felt stressed & uncomfortable. We left quickly after our meal that I had taken just a few bites of and almost forgot to grab the box of leftovers. We didn’t take a family photo like I wanted because it was too chaotic. 

As soon as we got home, I spent an hour getting the cranky baby to sleep, and now I’m laying down, typing this out on my phone, because sadly that’s the most efficient way for me to write these days, lol. My body is screaming at me for working out, and I’m dreaming about how truly glorious the massage hubby bought me is going to be. 

If you don’t include the birthday-related details, my day was really quite ordinary & uninteresting. There was no huge surprise party as I’ve had in the past, no drawn out string of celebratory events. For the majority of my day, it was just me and my baby hanging out — me caring for her, playing with her, loving her, same as I always do. It’s about her now. Mamas with littles don’t truly get all about you days. Someone has a wet diaper, or a boo-boo that needs kissing, or an argument that needs settling, a meal to be fed, a paper to sign and return to school, a need somehow or some way. Even though we get breaks, small reprieves here and there on a date night alone or a blessed car-induced naptime, mamas don’t get an off button. 

And that’s100% okay with me. 

I’m 100% grateful for this hard, confusing, need-filled role — mommy.

So, this is 24. I’d say something cliché like “never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be celebrating my 24th birthday with a baby in my arms,” but that's probably false. I’ll say this instead:

Being a mom is more joyful, more painful, more exhausting, more soul-shaping, and more beautiful than even my wildest dreams could have predicted.

What a grand gift, this life. 

Happy Birthday to me. 

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