Just enjoying a dad-and-kid-made pancake breakfast and hot coffee (not lukewarm!) with my boys, and thinking about this day of mothering.
As a child and subsequent adult, I've been blessed with the ability to learn easily and be good at a lot of things--arts and crafts, cooking, writing, following direction (oy!!). I'm not bragging here, but am setting the background for what I want to say: that motherhood does not come easily to me, at least as the parent to a spirited child, aka Kid A. And that's hard for me to accept day after day.
Feelings of tenderness, nurturing, and concern are certainly stirred in me when it comes to my children, but I find that my patience for Kid A is very thin. Our personalities are like oil and water--his exuberance and overt need for attention creates friction with my sensitive and quiet-craving mind.
Over and over, I try to tell myself to accept him as who he is, and I do! However, the difficulty lies when he is continually bouncing off the walls, hour upon hour, wearing down all of my resolve to accept him. He does have quite a sensitive and caring side, which I admire, even if it doesn't come out as much as his energetic side.
Afterwards, the teacher had the kids present "awards" to the moms, where the teacher dictated something that the child said they liked about their mothers. When it came to Soren's, I cringed inside, wondering what he said about me (I'm so vain).
Here's what it said: I love you because "after my nap you let me play the monster truck game."
In the wake of that sensationalized Time Magazine article (Are You Mom Enough? Of course we are!), I'm trying to be more accepting of motherhood in all its glory, imperfections and different forms.
As mothers, we are all trying our best (or at least most of us are), so lets celebrate today by honoring the fact that we are the best mothers for our children. And it helps that kids are pretty resilient beings, bending to changes in their environment the way a sapling bends to the winds, growing no matter what. While I might not be raising a mighty oak, I certainly hope my children branch out to accept and embrace the world around them, even if my tending to them is not always in ideal conditions.