The Boys Who Made Me Mama — Twice

Apparently I missed National Sons Day.

Which, honestly, feels pretty fitting considering half the time I don't know what day it is anyway.

But I couldn't let it completely pass without talking about my boys.

Boys and their mama are just something special. I can't put it into words but its a rear gift.

My two sons are 16 years apart.

Yes. Sixteen.

And if you want to know whether raising your second son 16 years after your first feels like starting over, the answer is yes.

Completely.

The Boy Who Made Me Mama

Conner was the one who made me a mama.

When he came into this world, I was young. I was learning how to be an adult while also being responsible for this tiny human who depended on me for everything.

I thought I needed to know all the answers.

I worried about whether I was doing things right. I worried about what people thought. I worried about things that, looking back now, probably didn't deserve nearly as much of my energy as I gave them.

But that's the funny thing about your first child.

They don't just grow up.

They grow you up, too.

Conner and I were learning at the same time.

He got the younger version of me. The mama who was trying to figure out who she was while raising someone else to figure out who he was.

And somehow, through all of my learning, mistakes, worrying and figuring-it-out-as-we-went, that little boy grew into a young man.

Sometimes I look at him now and wonder how we got here so fast.

Because I can still see the little boy.

And then I look again and realize he's grown.

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And Then, Sixteen Years Later...

Along came Jessup.

By the time Jessup was born, I wasn't the same woman who had Conner.

Not even close.

Life had happened.

I had been a mama for 16 years. I had raised children through different seasons. I had built businesses, changed careers, experienced loss, experienced joy, strengthened my faith and learned a whole lot about what actually matters.

And then God handed me another little boy.

This time, motherhood felt different.

Not easier.

Lord knows a toddler will humble a 40-something-year-old woman QUICKLY.

But different.

With Conner, I was always looking ahead.

When will he walk?

When will he talk?

When will he start school?

When will he drive?

When will he graduate?

With Jessup, I catch myself wanting time to slow down.

Because now I know.

I know how quickly the little shoes disappear from beside the door.

I know one day you stop carrying them.

One day they don't need you to buckle them into the car.

One day they drive themselves away.

And eventually, you're standing there looking at a grown man wondering where your little boy went.

Conner taught me that.

So Jessup gets a mama who understands time a little differently.

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The Gift of Sixteen Years

There's something pretty special about getting to experience motherhood in two completely different seasons of your life.

Conner got the mama who had energy.

Jessup got the mama who knows things and lived some life.

I'm still deciding which one got the better deal.

Probably neither.

But those 16 years gave me perspective.

They taught me that so many things we panic about as parents eventually work themselves out.

They taught me that kids don't need a perfect mama.

They need one who shows up.

They need one who loves them enough to teach them, correct them, encourage them, pray for them and sometimes let them learn the hard way.

And they need a mama who understands that raising them means eventually preparing them to live a life that will eventually be without you.

That's the hard part.

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Two Boys. Two Seasons. One Mama.

My boys couldn't have come into my life at more different times.

One made me a mama.

The other reminded me how precious being a mama really is.

Conner taught me how to raise a son.

Jessup reminds me to enjoy raising one.

And somewhere between those two boys, I grew up too.

So, Happy Belated National Sons Day to the two boys who have given me two completely different versions of motherhood.

Conner, you were my first.

You taught me how to be Mama when I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. We grew up together.

And Jessup, sixteen years later, you came along and reminded me that maybe I still don't know what I'm doing.

I just worry about it a whole lot less now.

I love you both more than you'll probably ever understand.

Maybe one day, when you're parents yourselves, you will.

Until then...

Jessup, pick up your toys.

And Conner, call/text your mama that your thinking about her.

Love,

Mama

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