My Daughter Wants to be a Mom When She Grows Up, and That's Enough For Me

My daughter, Kira, is 5 years old going on 15. As the youngest child, she is the baby of the family and also the self-pronounced princess. Her favorite color is pink, followed closely by blue (no doubt in part due to her love of Elsa and Frozen). She wears dresses every day, no matter the season, and regularly applies pink eyeshadow and lip gloss in the morning. Most days, when she gets home from school she immediately changes into one of her many princess dresses with accompanying accessories. She likes to play with dolls and imagine what her future wedding will be like. In fact, nearly every picture she draws is of someone getting married. Kira is the quintessential girly-girl, and if you ask her what she wants to be when she grows up, she will reply 'a mom' without hesitation.

I grew up as an only child, and I remember few things being as important to my parents and grandparents as my college education. It was something they prioritized from the time I was a little girl. Although my dad is college educated, neither my mom nor my grandparents were, so they were invested in me being the first graduate on her side of the family. Because my parents were divorced, I also understood the necessity of being able to support myself independently. I knew I wanted kids someday, but that desire always took a backseat to my own individual pursuits. When people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I had a long list ready and it did not include 'mom'.

Today, I am an (almost) 40 year old working mother of 3. I have a blossoming career that I love and a family that keeps me anchored. On good days, I feel like I've struck a delicate balance between successful career-woman and Susie-homemaker. My husband and I are partners in the truest sense - we don't split every task equally, but we do split family demands evenly. We are a dual income household by choice, and that affords us certain luxuries and conveniences we would otherwise forego. Should unforeseen circumstances ever force me into single parenting, I have the background and resources to land on my feet. This is my life, and most of the time I love it. So when my daughter first declared she wants to be a mom when she grows up, my first thought was 'That's great, but you can do more too'.

Now, let me be clear: I am a traditional feminist. I believe women are beautiful, unique creatures who are capable of doing amazing things. I believe women are different from, but equal to, men. I believe women should empower and support each other to make choices that help us be our best selves and bring us individual happiness. I believe God designed each woman for a very specific purpose but that we live them out through different callings. I believe women represent the softer, gentler side of humanity and the durable glue that holds society together. Above all, I believe our civilization is ultimately sustained by women who become mothers and sacrificially pour themselves into the next generation.

Although motherhood may not have been first on my list, there are two truths I've come to understand about being a mom. First, it is without a doubt the absolute hardest role I've undertaken. As difficult as I thought it would be doesn't compare to how challenging it actually is. There is nothing in my career or otherwise that comes close to the work involved in raising little humans. From middle of the night feedings to potty training to helping with homework, it's all part of the job. While some days are easier than others, most days exhaust me to my core. This is all fact. But there is a second, more important truth, and it is that being a mom is unequivocally, undeniably, unquestionably and indisputably the most rewarding job in the world. The pride I feel when one of my kids aces a spelling test or makes a new friend dwarfs any sense of self-accomplishment. And to be completely honest, it isn't even remotely close.

So when my daughter confidently says she wants to be a mom someday, perhaps it's because she feels this pride consuming her when we hug. Maybe she can also sense the pure, authentic joy she and her brothers bring me or the fierce love I have for them that I carry like a badge of honor. Maybe it's all of these, or maybe it's something else entirely. Either way, the more I think about it, the more I realize that it doesn't matter what's driving her desire. She sees my experience as a mom - good and bad - and she craves that same experience for herself. To me that means I must be doing something right and that, above all, brings me great satisfaction and delight. Because at the end of the day, if I didn't have my job, or I lived in a smaller house, or I found myself without the comforts I currently enjoy, one fact would remain: I would still be a mom. And that would be more than enough for me.