Greeting from Lincoln

I am here at the American Mother's Convention. Having never been before, I wasn't sure what to expect, and although I asked plenty of questions, I wan't prepared. It has been such an incredible gift.



I will blog more about the whole thing when I get home, but for now I wanted to post my speech I had to give yesterday. It went well--I did go over my time a little and so was a little flustered as I was running out of time--oh well. All the talks were so AWESOME and will soon be on the American Mother's website.

Joyfully Overwhelmed

by Heather Deshler

Several weeks ago I was talking to my sister on a day when she was especially exasperated with something her two young sons had done. While she told me about their escapades, I could relate to her frustration, but I could not suppress my laughter at the image she painted. As we talked, I was overcome with a memory of a day when my two oldest boys were toddlers, and they decided to wash the dishes like mom. Heaven only knows what I was doing, something I’m sure I felt was very important to check off of my to-do list that day. I remember walking into the kitchen to check on the boys and seeing them standing together on a chair that they had pushed over to the sink. The faucet was on with water running over the sides of the sink, across the counter and down the front of the cupboard. In my haste, to get to my boys and stop their mess making, it didn’t occur to me to look where I was walking. I didn’t realize that the water had already spread across a large portion of the kitchen floor. I remember the smiles and then the confused looks on my boys’ little faces as I took one step and immediately hit the floor—sliding on my backside from the doorway in the kitchen to just in front of the sink. I wish I could say that I immediately appreciated the humor in this, but I did not.
However, when I was reminded of this event by my sister’s story, I was overcome with emotion. This time they were radically different emotions—gone were any feelings of frustration with the mess or inconvenience, or pain. They were now replaced with a lot of joy—and a little guilt. Joy because of the memories of my boys learning to work and play together and of their sweet toddler faces, and just enough guilt to remind me of what matters most.


I don’t think my sister appreciated my laugh as she shared her frustration, and at first, she may have felt like I was minimizing her feelings, but because of the relationship we share, I was able to share my perspective from being just a few years ahead of her in mothering experiences. Our conversation didn’t change the fact that she was having an overwhelming mothering day, but we both benefited from connecting over the joys and pains (and in my case, a literal pain in the backside) of mothering.

Every mother knows what it is to have one of those days. What I didn’t realize as I started my mothering journey (11 ½ years ago) was that those days that seemed the hardest at the time are vivid parts of my cherished mothering memories now. The sleepless nights, hectic days, and untimely messes combine with the memories of first smiles and steps, swim meets, dance recitals and watching my children learn to do for themselves, what once only I did for them, create the full picture of what it means to be a mother.


I am a joyfully overwhelmed mother! I believe that being a mother means that you are overwhelmed much of the time—overwhelmed at the magnitude of the task, overwhelmed with love and concern for your family, and overwhelmed by the moments of joy in the journey of Motherhood.