“What’s wrong baby?”
“Mama, I need to poop.”
My first thought was literally, “Oh crap.”
“What’s wrong baby?”
We’ve all heard the African adage “It takes a village to raise a child.” It has taken an unfortunate turn of events to remind me that I need to thank the people in my children’s village and tell them how much they mean to us.
Call me crazy, but I’d rather travel the globe with my kids than take them to Disney.
Just as I know that their bad days are not reflective of who they are, they know the same is true for me. They see all the good and all the bad in me, on my best days and my worst, and still love me fiercely, wholly, and are ready to pounce on any one who dare criticize me … even when that critic is me.
In fact, I find that most Mondays I return to work more exhausted than when I left on Friday. Sure, part of it is that we are trying to cram too much fun into each weekend, but another part of it is simply that “relaxing” activities of my carefree, childless days now require significantly more energy and work in order to be successful (or survive).
Mom fails. Do we all have them? As I frantically try to juggle my family and work lives, I make mistakes, forget things on my never-ending to do list, and lose my patience. Is it just me?
Two years ago my littlest daughter decided she wanted to become a dancer. I had successfully avoided dance mom status with the other two girls as they had both leaned (or were pushed) toward sports like soccer and basketball. My youngest, however, was determined to resist my shoves no matter how pink her cleats and shin guards were.
And so, with each moment that I long to live again or live for a little longer, I also yearn to experience what will be … all that has yet to come. And, while I may hold on to every last for as long as I possibly can, I am also embracing every new first.
I was pregnant with my oldest son on Mother’s Day eighteen years ago. I hadn’t even felt his first kicks, but I knew I loved him. I couldn’t have known then how deeply that love would grow…
And, I knew what she needed. She did not need my judgment. She did not need me to walk past. She needed grace. She needed kindness. She needed understanding from one mother to another. She needed a village.