Motherhood's Wins Are Quiet (I'm Learning to Count Them Anyway)

I want to be honest about something: nobody claps for motherhood.

Not the real parts, anyway. Nobody throws confetti when you finally get all three kids to nap at the same time. Nobody gives you a trophy for talking a toddler down from a meltdown in the grocery store while your tea gets cold in the car. (Yes, tea. Coffee and I were never meant to be.)

The wins of motherhood are quiet. And for a long time, I didn't count them at all.

I was too busy measuring my days by what I crossed off. Did I answer the emails? Did I finish the orders? Did I keep the house from looking like a tornado hit it? And if the answer was no, the day felt wasted. Even if, somewhere in the middle of that "unproductive" day, one of my kids said something that made my whole heart stop. Even if we laughed so hard at the dinner table that milk came out of someone's nose. (Not naming names.)

I'm learning to count the quiet wins.

Like the morning one of my kids came to me upset and I actually put my phone down before I answered. That's a win. Like the fact that they're kind to each other more often than they're not, and that didn't happen by accident. Like the way they run to the door when my husband gets home. Like the fact that I read the same bedtime book four times in a row without losing my mind. Okay, without losing my mind completely.

"Let all that you do be done in love." (1 Corinthians 16:14)

That's it. That's the whole job, most days. Not the perfect schedule or the Pinterest birthday party or the house that looks like nobody lives there. Just love, in the small, repeated, unglamorous moments.

The world will tell you your work doesn't count unless someone sees it. But the people who matter most are watching. They're little, and they notice everything, including how you love them when nobody's looking.

So tell me: what's one quiet win from your week? I want to celebrate it with you.