for 10 years I have been a great mom. I have been sitting on the sidelines watching the game, cheering and providing snacks.

I have had dinner ready, open beer cans, brought tools and entertained kids for countless hours.

One whole decade of watching, desperate to play.

See, in the past, before that decade started, I played.

I played and I played hard.

I sweat with the team, I lifted the heavy weights.

I brought everything I had to the game.

And then . . . I was pregnant. I was a new mother, I was pregnant again and again. I was the one the wanted, I was the one who was the most. . .  expendable in the game.

And you know. For ten years that really, really sucked…. while it also “fed my soul, and my mothering nurturing side” it also made me feel trapped.

But my 10 years is over. It’s done. I made it through and I came out the other side.  And today, I was in the game.

I worked my ass off. I worked. Hubby worked. And the kids played.

The.

Kids.

Played.

All of them. Even the little one.

Nobody fussed. Nobody needed mom and dad.

No diapers to change. To breast milk to provide. No naps. No sibling management.

None of it.

I. Worked.

I worked alongside my best friend (yes, blech, that’s the hubby) for 6 hours of heavy labour. I broke a sweat before he did. I swore countless times and my hands are covered in callouses and wounds.

BUT. I. WORKED.

I know for some of you this might not be such a big deal, but for a mom of 3, just entering the “stable human” stage, this is a REALLY BIG DEAL.

All the times I stood back and watched the work being done. All the time I was putting kids down for naps while the deck was being raised/flooring put in/ windows inserted/tree felled/patio laid.

No more.

I am back in the game.

And it feels pretty amazing.

Full borne, body engulfing satisfaction.

My body is ready. My mind is ready.

Bring on the work.