Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Learning from my children

When I became a mother, my son may as well have smacked me directly in the face with how prepared I truly was.  I thought I knew it all, I had read countless books (seriously, more than 30), I had a birth plan (which we forgot at home and didn't use), I had made all of the bedding and decorations for his nursery, I spent so much time researching and planning what products to get, and what was important and what wasn't. I was prepared! Or so I thought....

Motherhood turned out to be very different from what I thought, it was more than a little reality check.  So I tried to adapt. I told myself that I'd become the best at being prepared for the unexpected because everything with children is unexpected in one way or another.

Well, I am not so good at being prepared for everything.  I try, and usually it works,  but no one can be prepared for everything all the time.  As I learn this, I judge others less.  I must admit, I am a dirty rotten judger. Sometimes I see people and my husband and I exchange looks, and we are judging. I try not to do it, but sometimes it's just too easy.

As I learn to judge others less I have started to see that everyone is doing the best they can.  Everyone has bad days, everyone lapses into a "stress monster" at times, everyone gets upset, everyone's house is dirty sometimes, everyone has to schedule a time to shower (seriously, I never thought about that before my kids, it just fit in so easily every morning).

This afternoon my little girl and I had a bit of a moment. She wouldn't sleep, I didn't feel good, she cried, I got overly frustrated.  So I picked her up out of her crib after 15 minutes of crying, fully intending to be mad at her.  And she stopped, and cuddled her head of soft hair into my chest and was happy.  She just wanted her mom.  Now to those of you who just thought "you gave in! you did exactly what she wanted! That's not sleep training!"  I say to you, you are a dirty rotten judger. Welcome to the club.  My one year old loves me unconditionally.  As does my three year old.  My children never see me as the lady who gets frustrated when their sippy cups spill (all the freakin' time!), or the woman who judges that strangely dressed person (cause I'm unsure of gender) at Wal-Mart.  To my kids I am Mommy.  In the same way my mom was to me.  I know this sounds like a silly revelation, but I am still fairly new at this.

I want to be like my children-a cleaner, older version of course.  I want to be so forgiving and loving.
So instead of striving to be like some world leader or a person of great acclaim for their motherhood achievements, I want to be like my toddler and preschooler.  Because they are perfect.

1 comment:

Kris said...

I have to say that there aren't very many articles that touch me enough to comment, but this one did. It is something I relate to and I've thought myself as I've rocked my girl late at night and her softness warms me like a blanket. Nicely written and beautifully stated. Thank you for supplying me woth today's happy thought.