My lucky number

840.....that's the estimated number of times a day I hear, "Mom, Mommy, or my favorite, Momma." How did I come to this number? Driving home from church last Sunday in the clown mobile, I found that the spiritual calmness that I walked out of church with was slowly beginning to drain as my replies to my name became shorter and more terse....."Yes honey? What's that sweety? Huh? Mhmm.....WHAT?!!!" So I decided to count. I was worried that maybe I was just being ridiculous. My husband didn't help as he was looking at me like I had 3 heads each time I uttered a number. I mean, how many times in a 20 minute car ride could the kids possibly need to call my name? Well, turns out, it's approximately a "Mom" a minute. So I took this number, multiplied it by the number of hours a day that the kids are awake, subtracted the hours that the older kids are at school, added a few for the car rides and came up with my number. That number is a double-edged sword.

I remember when my first-born was a baby and he started babbling. I wasted no time inundating him with "Ma-Ma's" until the day came when he uttered that magical name. There's nothing like that moment. I mean you know you're a mother when you're expecting. You may even begin to feel like a mother when that little life is wriggling around inside of you. When the nurse places that little soft bundle in your arms you may feel it then. But, something about that little child acknowledging you by your name for the first time fills your heart until it's about to burst. It was then that I wondered why my grandmother and her sisters used to tease me that they all taught their kids to say, "Dada" first and then they'd all chuckle to themselves. I couldn't fathom anything sweeter than hearing my little darling utter my name as his big blue eyes searched my face.

Many words came quickly after for my first-born and then we found out we were expecting twins! Again the time came after many exciting firsts (times 2!) like rolling over, sitting up, sleeping through the night and finally saying, "Momma." By then, I started to understand a little more of what my grandmother and her sisters were telling me. "Sara, if they learn to say 'Da-da' then guess who they'll call for when they wake up in the middle of the night..." Ah ha, so these women weren't cold....they were wise. Much wiser than I.

With each child thereafter I heard a lot more,"Momma's" and learned a lot about motherhood. I also learned that being a mother was a lot more about what I did for them and why I did it. Also, how my children felt about me and less about how quickly they learned to utter my name. Being a mother isn't one of those jobs where you complete a task and can either say that it was a job well done or not. There are so many factors involved. Our children are not little projects that we mold and glue together and end up with a finished product. Yes, it's important to guide them in their ways. To fill their lives with love, attention, security and morals is of utmost importance. Yet, you can do all of that and your child can turn out completely opposite of everything that you deam acceptable. Why is that? Two very simple words.....free will. Does this mean that we abandon our posts and let them do whatever they want? Do we just send them off into the world without guidance like sheep to slaughter? Of course not, that is not love. Love is guiding these little people, molding them into what you dream for them (but first check your dreams) and then letting them go and follow their dreams praying that it's God's will for their lives.

Sometimes I get tired. Sometimes I get REALLY tired. There are times when I've answered to, "Ma?" with, "She's not here right now, I've changed my name!" When you give your all to any job, it can be draining. Parenting is more than a job, it's a relationship. Pouring your whole heart, soul and time into 5 little people can literally suck you dry. Sometimes I kick and scream a bit. Sometimes I just brood and complain. When I choose to remember to do the right thing, I call out for my own source of comfort, "Abba. Father. I need you now." My empty cup is filled and once again I can listen to, "Mommy, Mom, Momma" and be grateful all 840 times.