Mother's Day

I've posted this before...over 2 years ago....but as I thought about Mother's Day this article came to my mind so I wanted to re-share it.  If anything, for my own benefit.  Reading over my older blog posts I came to the realization that I use to be a much more creative, fun blogger.  I'm kind of lame now.  I blame it partly on the fact that I feel so insanely busy that I have a hard time keeping up with the product of 1 + 1.  I think it also has to do with the fact that my oh-so-lovely post-partum hormones this time around have been so insane I have a hard time really knowing what I am thinking and feeling...and honestly who has time to contemplate that?  And if I did...do I really want to let everyone in on just how messed up I feel at times?  Plus, I facebook now and if you're my friend there it's pretty easy to find me here.  Honestly I'm not all keen on letting obscure people I was friends with years ago in High School (etc...) and/or the husband of a previous ward member that I was cordial with know the inner workings of my...self.  I want you all to suffer under the illusion that i have it all together...  :)  Okay, not really.  Facebook does make me feel more exposed...and therefore more guarded.

AND...given a choice between blogging and sleeping...I'll choose sleep 96% of the time.  This is one of those occasions that fall in the 4% category.

OH...there's also the fact that my children are growing up and will be entering the realm of reading, etc.  How does that change me as a blogger?  In some ways I've made more a shift towards reporting things that happen versus...other things.  I find myself asking, "If I blog about that, how will Emmy/Elle/Louie feel about it in X number of years.  I don't know the answer.  I guess I'm redefining it myself.  I know..."who cares!"  I care.  That's one of my biggest flaws.  I care too much what people think.  I'm working on it.  Or at least trying.  Or at least am getting so busy I have a hard time thinking about it.

Anyways, I wanted to reshare this article that appeared in the LDS Living Magazine in 2007.  It came out in the Thanksgiving season...but as a mother and on Mother's Day I found it completely applicable.

And to all the mother's out there...you are wonderful! 

Original Article?  Click here

A Parent’s Thanksgiving List

List by Janene Wolsey Baadsgaard

Thanksgiving usually inspires parents to start a diet. But if you’ll indulge with me for a while, I’d rather list a few things I’m grateful for as a mother.

I’m grateful my children demand I talk to them when I don’t feel like talking, feed them when I’m not hungry, and change their diapers even when I’m all dressed up and ready to go somewhere special. I don’t think I’d discover the world outside my own needs without them.

I’m grateful my children haven’t learned how to hold back their tears when they’re sad, laughter when they’re happy, or screams when they’re frightened. They constantly remind me that emotions are for sharing.

I’m grateful my children have broken nearly everything in my home and used a crayon or ink marker on the rest. They’ve taught me that things aren’t important, but people are.

I’m grateful my children start out small and helpless so they don’t become aware of my incompetence until they’re teenagers. By then, we’ve both grown so accustomed to each other, we somehow manage to make it through the rest of life together.

I’m grateful my children get their pants dirty, pick their noses, burp without saying “excuse me,” and quarrel in public so I’ll never be able to get too arrogant, proper, or judgmental of other people’s children.

I’m grateful my children sometimes call me names like “weird” because sometimes I am “weird,” and it helps keep a person humble to be told they’re “weird” when they’re acting weird.

I’m grateful my children occasionally miss the bus at the precise moment I’ve stepped out of the shower, contemplating the well-planned, organized day ahead of me. Experiences like jumping into the car after throwing on whatever’s handy and racing to school have a tendency to loosen rigid plans into something better known as spontaneity.

I’m grateful my children always need new shoes, piano books, prescriptions, haircuts, fieldtrip money, tuition, food, toothpaste, and underwear. That way, I don’t have to waste my time thinking about a new sofa. It’s difficult to get wealthy and think about luxuries when you have to buy toilet paper and milk by the truckload each week.

I’m grateful my children know how to play. My five-year-old asked me to come downstairs so he could “teach me how to play” with his plastic animals. While Jacob demonstrated the subtle techniques for sinking a rhinoceros into couch cushions while pretending it was quicksand, I realized my young son was right. I really do need someone to “teach me how to play.”

I’m grateful my children question my every command and giggle when I get angry. It’s difficult to feel too powerful or self-righteous with kids around to remind you of how funny you look when you’re pointing your finger.

I’m grateful my children insist I hug, kiss, rock, or put my arms around them often. Otherwise, I think I’d forget how the sense of touch is so healing.

I’m grateful each of my children is unique when the same strange, inexperienced mother raised them. Somehow they don’t seem to let me ruin them much.

And lastly, I’m grateful for the gift of children in my life. God willing, I’d like to fill the rest of my days with those interesting people who call me Mom (yes, and sometimes “weird”) but eventually “weird grandma.”