Mini Moments of Motherhood

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The mini moments of motherhood are the ones that are small yet mighty. When time stands still and the only thing that matters is you and your child. A short time stamp in life that speaks volumes about what motherhood is built on. It is a moment in life that feels intimate yet you can’t wait to share it with the world. Others may not understand this insignificant milestone, but to you, it means everything in the world. These are the mini moments of motherhood.

Everyone always talks about the baby’s first smile, the first solids, or the first steps. They ask about the big milestones and if they are hitting them on time. No one sheds light on the smaller milestones: the first time your child gets hurt or the first time they’re brave enough to not want your support. These mini moments take your breath away and leave you wanting for more. No one warned me about these moments yet I hope it gives us some courage to celebrate motherhood for every single moment we hold dear to our hearts.

mini moment of motherhood

The first time a friend took a toy from my daughter’s hands, she stood there like a ragdoll with her head down and her lips pouted. Her eyes were closed shut and she tried not to cry. I bent down to her level, made her look into my eyes, and gave her a big hug. It was the first time she was hurt and she didn’t know how to navigate her feelings. I made sure she knew she was safe and that I was there to comfort her. No one warned me about this mini moment: the first time my child would get hurt and how I as her mother would teach her how to grow from it. 

The first time my daughter empathized with her younger sister, she hugged her and said, “It’s ok, Ellie. You don’t have to cry.” She held her tight and patted her sister’s back. She held out her hand as an invitation to start playing again and all of a sudden, everything was right in the world. Not one moment did I have to intervene but I got to watch this sisterly moment unfold. No one warned me about this mini moment: the time when your mothering instincts are reflected in your daughter and you realize that your kids are constantly watching and therefore, mimicking. 

The first time she said a complete sentence after weeks of speech therapy. The months of mom guilt thrusted upon my shoulders now vanished as my little girl is throwing words, phrases, and responses out of her mouth. She is singing songs and fully communicating her needs and wants. No one warned me about this mini moment: when your child finally builds up the courage to speak, find their voice, and finally be confident. My initial instinct that her speech wasn’t where it needed to be was validated and my mom guilt dwindled away. 

The first time my daughter walked to her classroom by herself and didn’t look back once for reassurance. I was left standing alone with my eyes trained on her as she held her friend’s hand and walked to their classroom. Later I would get a phone call from her teacher saying how much Isla has progressed, blooming from a wallflower to a sunflower. Once refusing to say a word to now being the loudest voice in the class. One who was so shy she refused eye contact to now helping the new girl in class come out of her shell. No one warned me about this mini moment: when you’re so proud of your child you end up crying so hard it hurts. 

Witnessing my daughter grow into her own person has been the most bittersweet progression to watch. It is everything I wished for but everything I wish would slow down. No one warned me that as she continues to bloom I’d be left behind cherishing these moments in the silence of my heart.

For us mothers, these memories may be mini but they are above all the monumental moments of motherhood. These moments feel like fragments in time, yet they take up massive space in our hearts.

For me, watching my oldest daughter become her own person has been the hardest mini moment of motherhood for me. It makes me grateful for the memories I have yet to build with my youngest. Although it is just the beginning of many “firsts”, I find myself craving for more. More moments of her finding herself, creating her opinions, and building her circle of friends. I crave more intimate memories of just us to stand on for years to come.