As I have been a mom for now 18 months, I feel like I have learned that moms come in many different styles if you will. I watch some moms who seem to be so strong. They have 3 kids running around and are able to hold conversations with me while I am constantly checking on Logan out of the corner of my eye. I don’t think it is a secret to my friends and family and maybe some of you who read this blog that motherhood does not come naturally to me. I had a hard time leaving my job at work, I had a hard time accepting that my new reality consisted of cooking and cleaning 3 meals a day, trying to communicate with someone who can’t speak, wiping lots of poo, dealing with lots of discipline and so on and so forth. I was in a haze. I’d wake up and think “Ok, time to do this again.”

There are moms of littles who completely and totally do not understand this. They look at me with sympathy because they don’t want me to struggle, but they have little to say to help me because it is just not something they struggle with. “Sign me up for kissing boo boos the rest of my life! I’m in!” I don’t mean that facetiously either. They certainly have their own struggles, but being a mom truly fulfills them.

Then, there are the moms like me. We usually can spot each other. They are the ones who before I am even done talking are crying with me and we are both talking about how we miss our old selves and how we don’t know how we are going to get away from this new fog that seems to be covering our brains.

Logan turned 18 months in March. And something wonderful has happened. Something beautiful. I am, in every true sense of the word, enjoying my time with my son. I love 18 months! He is more independent. He is more fun. We can do things together. He laughs because he enjoys being with me. He lights up when he sees me and his daddy. We say “Do you want to go to grandmas?” and he squeals with delight!

I went out this morning while my sister graciously offered to watch Logan. I was gone all morning right up until he went down for a nap, and you know what? The whole morning I missed him! I was excited to get back to him. I was excited to see his smile when he saw me walk through the door.

I have discovered that I really like the growing up part of kids. The first 18 months were an adjustment for me. If you have felt the same, then you know what I mean. It’s not that I didn’t have moments where I enjoyed my son. It’s not that I didn’t love being a mom. It’s just that I had to get to this point I guess. I finally believe all the seasoned moms who continually told me “it gets better.” They knew. They understood.

I know my “it gets easier” is about to get harder. Adding another little bundle of joy may very well set me back into that ugly fog. But, the truth is, I have an Anchor through the storm. God has been so real to me. I have had to intentionally cry out to Him in my times of inadequacy. I feel so inadequate. I feel so non-mom like at times. Why do those other moms just seem so good at this? But I struggle? Why am I not more naturally nurturing? So many questions. I finally had to become ok with who *I* am as a mom. I don’t have the same strengths as other moms, but I have my own strengths. And they are God-given strengths. Maybe I’m starting to get a grip on this new identity for now?

Motherhood is stages. Just as it gets easier, it will get harder. But someday, it will get easier again. This I know.

I thank my God for everything I have learned about Him and about myself through the eyes and heart of a little boy. My own flesh and blood. That little smile has caused my heart more joy in 18 months then I have experienced in my entire life. I wouldn’t give up the struggles to have it any other way.

I find joy in Logan today.