With These Hands

Welcome to Mom Motivation Mondays where weekly contributing writers share their motherhood experiences to encourage you to find the joy in being a mom.

{This week: Post by Kristin}

My nails are always manicured and pedicured. Always. Once a month I leave the kiddos with my husband and take a much-anticipated trip to my local nail salon to get pampered for 45 minutes. It’s glorious.

While most self-maintenance has fallen by the wayside after having children, my finger and toe nails have not. Even while wearing sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, hair a mess, pushing away the frazzled vibes with two children in tow, if my nails are painted, I somehow feel put-together. I like to think that it’s a small signal to the outside world that I haven’t given up on myself just yet. See this fresh gel mani? Take that, universe — I’m doing OK!

But this post is not about vanity or self-care, it’s about a thought I had while I was sitting in the big comfortable nail salon chairs with the mechanical massage kneading my back, and the nail technician painting my nails.

I studied my dainty, narrow hands— long fingers, knobby knuckles — and thought, “if these hands could talk”.

My-oh-my how much these hands have encountered since my two kiddos entered our lives…since I became “Mama”.

***

With these hands I gripped my husband’s hand through two intense labors.

With these hands I cradled both of my babies for the first time, gave them their first baths and rubbed their tiny backs in the wee hours of the morning as they drifted off to sleep.

With these hands I’ve wiped baby and toddler butts — SO MANY wiped butts with these two hands!

With these hands I scrubbed baby vomit out of the carpet, and cleaned away spit up and drool.

With these hands I’ve fished out troublesome eyelashes lost in my daughter’s eyeball and garden rocks from my son’s mouth.

With these hands I’ve prepared thousands of meals for two hungry babes, then cleaned up remnants of said meals from the floor, and the wall.

With these hands I’ve “saved” my daughter from the park’s monkey bars, held her hand tightly while crossing the street, and tied many loose shoelaces.

With these hands I’ve turned the pages through storybooks, glued together craft projects, and colored Elmos and Mickeys while bent over a kid-sized table.

With these hands I’ve been on the opposite end of a nose-blow holding the tissue, gauged high temperatures from foreheads, and dosed out medication for pesky colds.

With these hands I’ve wiped away tears, bandaged boo-boos, and hugged away hurt feelings.

With these hands I’ve pointed out the world— look at that butterfly…see there, that’s an airplane in the sky…and this is how you build a sandcastle.

With these hands, I’ve taken WAY too many photos and videos — capturing every perfect moment, and even some of the messy ones — a living breathing mama paparazzi.

With these hands I’ve hugged my friend, also a mom, on her very worst day when it all seemed like too much — a drowning feeling that I know too well.

With these hands I’ve held my husband’s hand across a candle-lit table at a fancy restaurant on a date night, discussing our hopes and dreams for the future of our family.

And with these hands I’ve written numerous articles about every aspect and angle of “mom life” — the heart-warming fuzzy feelings, the hard lonely days, and everything in between.

***

These hands, my hands, are mom hands – tried and true. And I think they’ve earned a little manicure, a little pampering, a little color. I think all of us moms have earned that. If not a manicure, then perhaps a massage, an uninterrupted coffee, or a walk alone — some time away to reflect and think about things other than nap schedules, what to cook for dinner, and who stole who’s toy — time away to think about things like, “if these hands could talk”.

Kristin is a mom to a 2 year old daughter and 6 month old son. Pre-motherhood she worked in the corporate marketing and public relations world. She is now a stay-at-home-mom and writer, penning all of the emotions, joys, and hardships of motherhood. You can find her writing regularly over at Tribe Magazine or follow her daily #momlife shenanigans on Instagram @KristinHelms_writer.