The Small Moments of Motherhood Mean So Much
Words by Kayleen Terrell
I admire my friend, Emily. She works full-time, commutes almost every day, gets both kids up and ready every weekday morning, and takes them to school or daycare. She fights Seattle traffic both ways and picks her kids up on the way home. In the evening, she makes dinner and gives baths. She goes to bed only to do it all again.
Scratch that, I don’t just admire her. I’m in awe of her.
Emily and I were able to meet for a couple hours one Sunday afternoon for a glass of wine and some appetizers while we caught each other up on our lives. My in-laws had moved in with my husband, our two kids, and myself about six months prior. I was explaining to Emily what a smooth transition it had been and how the past few months have gone living with them.
“Yes, it’s been going really well,” I went on, “My father-in-law loves to pick Hadley up from the bus stop and sometimes I can send the kids downstairs for 15 or so minutes while I work on dinner. My mother-in-law and I take turns cooking meals sometimes. We share food with one another or offer dinner when we know the other has had a busy day or hard week. I can take Hadley to school in the morning while she watches John.”
I paused, “You know, they are small things, but it’s nice.”
Emily sat for a moment. She stared back at me. Her lips parted slowly and the sides of her mouth curled up eventually revealing her full smile, the one I’ve come to know since high school that always sweeps across her freckled face with wisdom and warmth. Her eyes widened and brows lifted, “Kayleen, those aren’t small things.”
Her response had rocked me. She was right. They weren’t small things. They were huge things, things that I had taken for granted.
I felt a little silly afterwards. I thought about Emily and all the work she has to do every day. I reflected about all the helpful things I encounter almost daily that I had deemed “small.”
I’ve categorized many things as small throughout motherhood and not just the help I’ve received from my family. Sweet moments shared between my kids, encouragement given to me even at times from complete strangers, all seemed so minor at the time. I’m beginning to realize they aren’t small.
Time after time, it’s never the big things that have had the greatest, most positive impact on me as a mom. It’s the small ones. The ones that really aren’t small at all. They are immense treasures disguised as miniscule commodities.
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Sometimes I wonder if my kids hear anything I say to them. Are the life skills and lessons I am trying to teach them daily actually being learned? The days where the arguing is nonstop, tempers are flared, and tensions are high, make me wonder if anything I am doing is making an ounce of difference. They just don’t seem to listen or get it. Just when I feel I’m not making an impact or dent in their emotional and social learning, they will surprise me and do something “small.”
It could be stub of the toe or a scrape on the knee, but if one of my kids gets hurt, the other drops whatever they are doing and comes running to the aid of their sibling. Armed with his sister’s blankie and a cold pack, John recently came to his sister’s side after a shin scrape on a recliner chair. He sat next to her and rubbed her back.
“It’s okay, Hadley.” He reassured her by handing over her blankie and offering the cold pack.
She’s done the same for him. It has been small moments like this that cause me to see, I am in fact doing something right. They are learning kindness, empathy, and how to care for one another. The hopeful affirmation I receive from these little moments between my kids is what keeps me going as mom. I think I’ve boxed these moments up as small because they are short, small blips on the seismograph of our day, but the lasting positive mark on my kids and myself is huge.
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“I saw the way you handled that out there. You did a really great job. I remember my sons at that age.” The sixty-something-year-old woman smiled kindly as she nodded her head at my son who sat begrudgingly in the front seat of the shopping cart.
With my face still flushed, I offered a “thank you,” and a sigh in the frozen food aisle of Trader Joe's.
John had thrown a tantrum out front near the entrance by the carts. He had wanted his own little cart, but the short amount of time we had before we needed to pick my daughter up from preschool warranted a big shopping cart with him sitting sweetly in the front while I zipped around gathering groceries that we needed. John had a different plan in mind and he made that very clear upon our attempted admittance to Trader Joe's.
“Nooooo!” he screamed as I tried to lift his three-year-old body up off the ground. His legs kicked and face reddened while people gathered behind us waiting for their carts. Looks of shock and horror from some shoppers, pity from others. I swept him away to a nearby bench, stooped down to meet him face to face, and explained the situation about needing to use a big cart. Treats from the store were offered as bribes and he reluctantly agreed. This lady who approached me in the frozen aisle as I dropped boxes of frozen chocolate-covered bananas in my cart must have witnessed it all. Her words seemed small at the time. I brushed them off as mere good intentions from a little-knowing stranger, but I couldn’t stop thinking about them. They had made a difference.
I had handled that situation well and as a mom I needed to hear it, even from a complete stranger. Her words were carved out and planted as a little light post along a dimly lit and sometimes confusing path of parenthood. The kind words of strangers can seem unwanted or unneeded at the time they are given, but without them I might be lost or prone to wander, and so really they are beacons of light keeping me on the right path.
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It wasn’t a small decision. The decision to buy a new house with the idea in mind that my in-laws would be living in the daylight basement, mother-in-law space below, was not one my husband and I took lightly. It was a big decision that has led to dozens of small, meaningful moments with them that have had an impact on my life as a mom and altered my kids’ childhood for the better.
When my kids get to spend 15 or 30 minutes downstairs or outside with their grandparents while I make dinner, it gives them an opportunity to play and build special memories. It gives me some needed time to unwind and focus on a task. I realize not everyone gets this, including my friend Emily, and so it shouldn’t be something I take for granted or consider small.
It was my moment of realization with Emily that caused me to look more deeply at the treasures I receive daily in my life. I have the village and I didn’t even know it until I began to look around. Support from my friends and family, sweet moments between my kids, and encouraging words from others are the “small” things that Emily helped me realize so clearly
Emily’s daughter had an emergency surgery a couple months ago to get her appendix taken out. This was amid the COVID-19 pandemic and Emily was the only person allowed in with her daughter at the hospital while her husband stayed at home with their son.
Not really knowing what else I could do, I texted Emily letting her know I was available if she needed to talk while she waited for Addie to get out of surgery, no matter the hour. My daughter, Hadley, read aloud a Disney princess book and we messaged the video for Addie to watch later after she was recovering from surgery.
They seemed to me like such small tokens and took minimal effort, but you never know the impact those small pieces might have on someone, especially a mother. I’m still in awe of Emily and always will be, not just for the amazing mother she is, but for her ability to perceive the helpful actions and kind words of others as much more than “small things.” She sees them for what they are, immense treasures.
About the Author:
Kayleen Terrell lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband and two kids. She’s an elementary school teacher, writer, lover of coffee, wine, and all things Parisian. Kayleen believes that motherhood requires a little grace and hopes to humor, support, and encourage with her writing. You’ll find her on Instagram @kayleenterrell.
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