I recall sitting on the front stoop outside the Zeta Tau Alpha sorority house on Milledge Avenue in Athens, in 1983. It was one of my favorite places to plug in the old typewriter when I had a lengthy writing assignment, and that spring of my senior year I had quite a few of those.

The project was a screenplay and I was, per instruction, trying to get inside the head of my main character, a woman named Megan. She was a mother of two who ran triathlons and worked as a marine biologist at San Diego's Sea World, and she was everything I thought was cool at that time in my life.

I remember researching marine biology, triathlons and the sexy California locale, really getting into Megan's world, or so I thought. When it came to motherhood, however, I assumed since I had a mom and wanted to be one some day, it would be enough.

The enormity of my ignorance was no doubt obvious to those who ultimately read my play. Today I know how I trivialized Megan's role as a mom.

How could I have imagined then what it means to be a mother?

For the majority of women, I think a similar naivete allows us to leap or stumble or meticulously plan our way into motherhood without completely freaking at the enormity of it.

I never imagined I'd have four children, now aged 19, 17, almost 3 and 16 months - three girls and a boy. I'm proud to be their mom, and it's easy to accept that our lives revolve around them and their activities. The age range means a lot of diversity in our days, but it's their continued good health, safety and the promise of a prosperous and peaceful future for them that matters to me above all. Which is how I came to write this column three years ago, and which is why taking a stand on issues affecting them is important to me.

Motherhood sometimes seems like all guts and no glory, but often the glory is simply disguised in the small things. For the little kids, it's in the smile you receive after kissing an ouchie or snipping off the plastic end of a push-up Popsicle. The older ones are more challenging, but when they make mature decisions it's always a great day.

Lately, I've experienced more than one flashback, sitting at the space shuttle McDonalds on Whitlock, or chasing a ball over the soccer fields at Lost Mountain Park. The playgrounds are better than they were 17 years ago (thanks Cobb County), but the moms are the same, overwhelmingly willing to lend a hand and chat about their kids.

It's good to recognize that pre-school travails are easy compared to Algebra Two or teens driving in Atlanta traffic. And potty training is a pleasure after the first unauthorized party.

As I told my oldest, I'd never have started over again if it hadn't been so much fun the first time.

Happy Mother's Day.

lbarmstrong3378@comcast.net

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