For the last ten years, ringing in the new year has meant something more to me than resolutions and champagne: it’s meant recognizing my own motherhood.

It was on January 1, 2005 that I officially became a mother.


I like to think that we look slightly less tired now than we did ten years ago…

Oh, I know I was a mother when she was inside me. I don’t deny that.

But…well, it all became real in a whole new way at 3 AM when she decided to make her appearance. At 8:35 when I first saw her round “looks just like Daddy!” face, I was changed.

I still can’t get over the fact that it was — that it is — Mary’s day. Not just any Marian feast, but the feast of Mary’s motherhood, the essence of who she is to me (um, and to Jesus, too).

It’s pretty easy to believe that it’s been ten years. Three more kids, lots more experience, and she’s nearly eye level with me.

Who knew that I knew how to make a daisy crown? I didn't...until then.

Who knew that I knew how to make a daisy crown? I didn’t…until then.

A decade of motherhood for me, who’s struggled with mothering, with mothers, with all things girl for…well, for a long time.

A decade of graces and finding divine help and laughing more than I thought possible for me, who said I never wanted kids but had no idea that kids were just exactly what I needed.

The Daddy Recliner, patent pending.

The Daddy Recliner, patent pending.

A decade of finding out that the guy I married, whose ring I wear, whose life I share, isn’t just Prince Charming, but is more like St Joseph, a far better father and role model and mentor and helpmate than I could have picked without an angel looking out for me.

Ten years is a blink. It’s also a haul, one of the most important and most fun I’ve had.

Here’s to many more decades of this thing called motherhood, which I shall continue to toast every New Year!

That New Year's baby's not really tiny anymore...

That New Year’s baby’s not really tiny anymore…