Littleman says, "mudder." I asked him if I'm a mudder and he replied, "NO, you're mama." But, when greeting his aunt and grandma, "Happy Mudder's Day, girls!" So sweet.
What more could a mother want? Except perhaps more little people to love and some pancakes? I get both. I know I am a very lucky person and I am grateful for it all.
One of the best gifts this year is what I have learned from the mommy friends I have made. I feel like the greatest thing is knowing that each of us is a great mom in our own way. I see how each of us does what we do differently. I see how each of us, spends huge portions of our day trying to help our children be the best they can be, often with nothing to show for it by bed time. It's pretty comforting to know that none of us really knows what we are doing, but we hope for the best, love each other and our kids and hubbies, and plow on through to the next day with a smile, a laugh, and sometimes a drink, when one is allowed.
When I was a new mommy I was so unsure and scared. My husband was away most of the time. My BF was a new mommy herself. And, I had no faith in myself as a parent. I think, at least for me, I needed time. Time to see that I wasn't going to "ruin" my baby boy. Now that he's nearly four, I can say that, yes, I have probably spoiled him and created a bit of a sissy/mama's boy, but NO, I have not ruined him. All in all, I am still unsure, but not scared. I have faith that my best is enough.
Last night I couldn't sleep and I found myself on the floor of my walk-in closet reading through my old journals. The following entry was written on October 17, 1993. I had just turned 18. I had had one of those experiences where someone had asked me what my "happy place" was. Here is what I wrote: (I tried to scan and upload the image of the actual journal page, but alas, photoshop is thwarting me)
"My happy place is my home. My home. My home that I make, my home with the family I make. My husband, my children...the happiest place in the world. The most important thing in the world to me, BC, is a happy, healthy family. Loving, trusting, and happy - the works. I wonder if it is too wild a dream sometimes. How can it be though? My dream is to make a happy family. If I have faith in me, I can do that, RIGHT? Well I am going to try my best!"
Man, I was one sappy teenager. I used to refer to this happy place as "the grand ultimate wish." No wonder I scared off all the guys. (In case you were wondering, by the time I met Papabear, a few months later, I had figured out that you don't TELL guys these kinds of dreams...at least not in the first month or two.) It amazing to me to read through those years - the overall theme is I was searching, desparately, for a "home of my own" so to speak. I felt displaced at both my mom's and my dad's. Loved, but displaced. Anyway, I feel truly grateful that I didn't run Papabear off with my desparate need for "home" at such an early age.
Okay, enough of this. You probably want to get back to your cooking dinners, tv shows, dogs to walk, little people to entertain or change or love. Here are some pictures of late.
Man, I am so huge already. I never get that basketball belly - just giant-ness. Let's just move along quickly... Littleman is definitely going through a "dress-up" phase.
He very rarely lets me give him a mohawk, so I thought I'd document the one time.
Love the 'hawk! I really wish Boogie would let us put his up more often... And the fact that Littleman dresses up so often and so crazy is awesome -- Boogie does it too, and it's nice to know that he isn't alone in that obsession! (teeheehee)... You look great, btw, so stop getting down on your beautiful, pregnant self!
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