- I love the miracles. I am one of those women who loved being pregnant. I loved settling down to go to sleep at night and being kicked like mad as a reminder there was a PERSON inside me. I loved pushing and laboring for yes, 24 hours, to deliver a little infant and that first cry. I loved breastfeeding for a grand total of eight years spread over four kids and realizing my body could provide everything a baby needed. It's really an amazing thing when you think about it. Being part of a miracle? Priceless.
- I love the reminder that most of the time, not much else matters. Like everyone, I stress about the economy. About finances, bills, and paying for college. I have a leak in my kitchen ceiling. The Suburban Nazis (a.k.a. the homeowners association) patrolled this weekend for their once-a-year inspection of the community where I live (and had I KNOWN about this before I bought my house, I NEVER would have moved here). I get aggravated by petty people and tired and stressed. And then I can watch my kids sleeping, or hear them laughing upstairs and be reminded . . . frankly, that none of it is as important as having happy, healthy children.
- I love that they still love me. Imperfections and all. I mess up a lot as a mom. I'm too tired, I'm too stressed, I'm too impatient, and I am a lousy cook. I hate housework, I can't keep up with the laundry. But they seem to love me anyway.
- I love their souls. Children raised in loving homes have not yet been crushed by life. They believe in possibility. They believe in wishing on stars and imaginary friends with magical powers. They believe if they want to be the next Steven Spielberg that of course they can be. They believe they can be musicians and artists and impractical professions (heck, their mother is a writer, which is as impractical as you can get). They are filled with hope and belief. In themselves. In the world as a safe place.
- I love the stories. Yup, I'm a writer and a blogger, and frankly, they give me a lot of good material. All right, so number 5 is kind of selfish. But I did say I was an imperfect mother.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Five Things I Love About Being a Mother
Merry tagged me to blog about five things I love about being a mom. Only five? All right . . . here goes:
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
5 comments:
"Children raised in loving homes have not yet been crushed by life."
I wish this were true for my daughter. Because of her Asperger's, she is bullied and teased every day. Her self esteem has been stripped away. Even when the kids are given detention and other privileges taken away, they continue to torment her. I'm putting her in a private school next year that has a zero tolerance policy for bullying, so hopefully things will get better.
Aww, you're a sweet mommy!!
Cheryl:
My heart breaks . . . yes, I agree. I know my son was bullied when we first moved here, though I think now he's come through with his self-esteem pretty well intact, I can't say that was always the case. I don't understand how children can be so unkind . . . I don't get motivations of others . . . truly.
My younger daughter has been ostracized at times by a "queen bee" here in the neighborhood whose mother tolerates her daughter's behavior. I shake my head at some parenting. I really do.
E
Thanks, Nessa.
E
I love your list, Erica.
I do worry about the queen bee's and teasing, and I don't understand parents who think it's okay... wonder if they were little bullies, themselves. My daughter can handle it - she's already come to the conclusion that she'd rather be weird and creative than popular... and if you don't like the weird and creative, you wouldn't be much fun to hang around with. My oldest son worries me, though, he's more sensitive about things and takes them to heart.
Post a Comment