βπ°βπ πππ ππππ
π πππ ππππ.β ~ A Mamaβs Mantra
When that one pink line turns to two, she looks down with gurgling excitement before the panic sets in and she starts thinkingβ¦βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When the contractions are coming hard and fast, rippling through every ounce of her beingβ¦ she screams in her mind, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When the doctor releases her from the hospital with only a test of how well she knows how to fasten a car seatβ¦ she whispers to herself, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When sheβs fumbling in the middle of night to feed and sooth a fussy babe after an exhausting day that she can barely keep her eyes openβ¦ she groans, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When they take their first steps, stuff fistfuls of food (or whatever they get their hands on) in their mouth, climb on the coffee tableβ¦ she sighs, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When they strap on their Spiderman backpack and head out for their first day of schoolβ¦ she tearfully cries, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When they decide training wheels are for babies and they take off down the street, wobbling this way and thatβ¦ She worries, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When she sits on the sidelines of their first practice and watch another parent train, teach, reprimand, and build themβ¦ she frets, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When they want to have their first sleepover away from home, out of reachβ¦ She gnaws her nails as she thinks, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When they walk through the doors of middle school, discover social media, pick and choose friendsβ¦ she bites her tongue and says, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When she sees a text that hints of a romantic relationshipβ¦ she holds her breath while thinking, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When they take the driverβs seat for the first time and she presses her right foot down on an invisible pedal, internally screaming, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
And when their messy bedroom that used to drive her mad is suddenly packed up and emptied outβ¦ she clutches the doorframe with tears in her eyes and cries, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
Friends⦠I know how it feels.
Weβre never ready for that next step.
Because weβve never been there.
Never known what itβs like to let the most vulnerable, the most precious piece of our heart walk out into the world.
Itβs scary as hell.
But.
If weβve done our job.
Even if we arenβt ready.
They are.
They are because weβve made them so.
Itβs a wild ride, mama.
Ready or notβ¦
Here it comes .
Words by: Raise Her Wild with Mehr Lee
Read more When that one pink line turns to two, she looks down with gurgling excitement before the panic sets in and she starts thinkingβ¦βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When the contractions are coming hard and fast, rippling through every ounce of her beingβ¦ she screams in her mind, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When the doctor releases her from the hospital with only a test of how well she knows how to fasten a car seatβ¦ she whispers to herself, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When sheβs fumbling in the middle of night to feed and sooth a fussy babe after an exhausting day that she can barely keep her eyes openβ¦ she groans, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When they take their first steps, stuff fistfuls of food (or whatever they get their hands on) in their mouth, climb on the coffee tableβ¦ she sighs, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When they strap on their Spiderman backpack and head out for their first day of schoolβ¦ she tearfully cries, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When they decide training wheels are for babies and they take off down the street, wobbling this way and thatβ¦ She worries, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When she sits on the sidelines of their first practice and watch another parent train, teach, reprimand, and build themβ¦ she frets, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When they want to have their first sleepover away from home, out of reachβ¦ She gnaws her nails as she thinks, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When they walk through the doors of middle school, discover social media, pick and choose friendsβ¦ she bites her tongue and says, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When she sees a text that hints of a romantic relationshipβ¦ she holds her breath while thinking, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
When they take the driverβs seat for the first time and she presses her right foot down on an invisible pedal, internally screaming, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
And when their messy bedroom that used to drive her mad is suddenly packed up and emptied outβ¦ she clutches the doorframe with tears in her eyes and cries, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ π πππ ππππ.β
Friends⦠I know how it feels.
Weβre never ready for that next step.
Because weβve never been there.
Never known what itβs like to let the most vulnerable, the most precious piece of our heart walk out into the world.
Itβs scary as hell.
But.
If weβve done our job.
Even if we arenβt ready.
They are.
They are because weβve made them so.
Itβs a wild ride, mama.
Ready or notβ¦
Here it comes .
Words by: Raise Her Wild with Mehr Lee
βπ°βπ πππ ππππ
π πππ ππππ.β ~ A Mamaβs Mantra
When that one pink line turns to two, she looks down with gurgling excitement before the panic sets in and she starts thinkingβ¦βπ°βπ πππ ππππ
π πππ ππππ.β
When the contractions are coming hard and fast, rippling through every ounce of her beingβ¦ she screams in her mind, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ
π πππ ππππ.β
When the doctor releases her from the hospital with only a test of how well she knows how to fasten a car seatβ¦ she whispers to herself, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ
π πππ ππππ.β
When sheβs fumbling in the middle of night to feed and sooth a fussy babe after an exhausting day that she can barely keep her eyes openβ¦ she groans, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ
π πππ ππππ.β
When they take their first steps, stuff fistfuls of food (or whatever they get their hands on) in their mouth, climb on the coffee tableβ¦ she sighs, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ
π πππ ππππ.β
When they strap on their Spiderman backpack and head out for their first day of schoolβ¦ she tearfully cries, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ
π πππ ππππ.β
When they decide training wheels are for babies and they take off down the street, wobbling this way and thatβ¦ She worries, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ
π πππ ππππ.β
When she sits on the sidelines of their first practice and watch another parent train, teach, reprimand, and build themβ¦ she frets, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ
π πππ ππππ.β
When they want to have their first sleepover away from home, out of reachβ¦ She gnaws her nails as she thinks, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ
π πππ ππππ.β
When they walk through the doors of middle school, discover social media, pick and choose friendsβ¦ she bites her tongue and says, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ
π πππ ππππ.β
When she sees a text that hints of a romantic relationshipβ¦ she holds her breath while thinking, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ
π πππ ππππ.β
When they take the driverβs seat for the first time and she presses her right foot down on an invisible pedal, internally screaming, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ
π πππ ππππ.β
And when their messy bedroom that used to drive her mad is suddenly packed up and emptied outβ¦ she clutches the doorframe with tears in her eyes and cries, βπ°βπ πππ ππππ
π πππ ππππ.β
Friends⦠I know how it feels.
Weβre never ready for that next step.
Because weβve never been there.
Never known what itβs like to let the most vulnerable, the most precious piece of our heart walk out into the world.
Itβs scary as hell.
But.
If weβve done our job.
Even if we arenβt ready.
They are.
They are because weβve made them so.
Itβs a wild ride, mama.
Ready or notβ¦
Here it comes β₯οΈ.
Words by: Raise Her Wild with Mehr Lee
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