We each begin motherhood as a perfect piece of pottery sitting atop the mantle. Our edges are smooth. Our finish is shiny and bright. Close inspection would deem us perfect at every possible angle. The world congratulates us and we beam proudly.

For nine months we carry our little humans and our pot begins to expand and expand and expand. Our little pot can only withstand so much pressure before it bursts. It cracks. It explodes. We are shattered. We are weak. We are in a million pieces and yet somehow we finally feel complete.

Two tiny hands begin to pour gold into our cracks. They work endlessly and tirelessly to piece us back together. Their work never stops. They are up at all hours of the night- molding and shaping- molding and shaping.

We are exhausted from their work-but we too- are searching for the perfect pot we once were. We are yearning for the praises we once heard and the pride we once felt. We’ve never felt SHAMBLES before. Our finish is now dull and weathered, our edges are wrinkled and mis-shapen. We begin to HATE the pot that we have become. We shout to the world every chance we get-

WE ARE NOT A GOOD POT ANYMORE! WE HAVE NOTHING TO OFFER!

We hang our heads in shame.

And as we cry the two tiny hands keep molding and shaping- molding and shaping. As the years pass we find ourselves in an antique store- for sale. We sit and collect dust. We knew that would happen. What use are we anymore anyways?

We have holes. We are broken. WE ARE NOT A GOOD POT!

One day we are lifted and carried to the register. I would like to buy this pot, says a familiar voice. “But that pot is broken,” says the cashier. “It’s not broken. It’s beautiful says the voice.. and its mine.” We look down at the hands that are holding us. We know those hands- they are the same hands that molded and shaped us into the masterpiece that we now are. They are the hands that painted our pot with the wild colors of a child’s imagination. They signed their crooked names on us and proudly displayed us before the world.

We are their pots and they are our hands- molding and shaping- molding and shaping. What once was a plain old pot is now an exquisite piece of art- a child’s masterpiece. OUR CHILD’S MASTERPIECE! 

KINTSUKUROI MAMAS

May you all look in the mirror today and find your beauty that has been there all along!

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