My daughter is the most amazing two year old in the world. She can sing songs, play drums, and behave herself for short periods of time. Not to mention she is stunningly beautiful.
But of course, I'm her mother. I would think all these things are mind-blowing.
Child-rearing is at once the most transcendent and most mundane act in the world. The majority of women end up doing it, with varying degrees of success, and it provides an instant bond. Whenever I meet another mother whose child simply did not sleep, I want to embrace her as we laugh at all the futile advice we got and crazy methods we tried. It is repetitious, as you sing songs over and over, discipline infractions continually, and draw one thousand and one circles on paper with purple marker. There is the daily grind of feeding, clothing, and diapering a child while handling life's other obligations, whether from an external job or the household job. And then there is transcendence.
It's the moment when you watch this small creature make a joke. Or when you see her share food with her doll for the first time. The complete miracle that your body created a tiny little person who is now feeding herself and talking in 4 word sentences. That somehow life came into the world through your own action.