Mom By Me

I'm sitting on the couch eating my chocolate cache from the day, one bar I bought myself, one bar given to me at church. I've been trying to think of something to say about this day. I didn't want to go online to see what everyone else was saying. I just wanted to think up something that only I have thought of. But it's impossible. I'm influenced so much by other people and by what I read. It informs so much of my inner dialogue as a day-to-day mom. In the past month and week leading up to Mother's day I've read a lot about being a mom and parent. I loved that French parenting book, I enjoyed CJane's post, I kind of enjoyed learning about parenting around the world, I teared up at the end of these food blogger moms' experiences, I could totally commiserate with one mom's frustration about conflicting sleep training advice, I enjoyed the sweet and honest  naivete of the new mom/founder of Shabby Apple, I am perplexed and awed by the compassion embodied in Mother Teresa, and this video made me want to adopt a 7-year-old black boy in a suit. Internet, you be teachin' me 'bout bein' a better mom. (That was said in the voice of my future black son.)

I wanted to sit down and write something about the way I want to be remembered as a mom. Since my own clearest memories are from age 5 and up, I laugh evilly inside as I concoct the exact way that Noah and Sienna will remember me right now, May 11, 2013.

First of all, Sienna, you love me. You kiss me all the time and you never disobey. I always deserve to be kissed, just like this.

And this. The lighting is always magical when we are together. It's like heaven is always smiling and fairies are sprinkling glitter as we prance around the desert at dusk.

I always wear outfits like this. Everyday. 

 
Sometimes our life resembles a black and white movie because we're cool like that.

 I do my hair perfectly without fail. And, Noah, you kiss me, too.

You kiss me so hard sometimes you miss.

Sienna, I always have patience with you. Endless patience. But, really, you don't need patience because you are the perfect child.

 And we are best buds. Always.

EEERRRRRRRRCCCCCHHHHHHH.

Reality check. Life looks like that when we are dressed up for family pictures and the light is right and the moods are fueled by candy.

BUT.

Real life with mom right now, kids? It looks more like this.

Waiting on the steps for dad to come home after an excruciatingly long day.

Sometimes I stay in my robe for a good, long time and you stay in your diaper for a good, long time.

 Sometimes you're sick and you lie glued to me, much like this.

Sometimes you are naughty beyond all comprehension and I am baffled and ruffled.

Sometimes your toys make noises that grate all the nerves that ever were.

Here are some portraits you took with my iPod that showcase just a fraction of the mess that we live in day in, day out.

And in case you are wondering, I'd rather be sitting on the couch reading a book instead of anything else.


Happy Mother's Day, kids! Beneath all the sarcasm and negativity, I really do know that I am one insanely lucky lady to have you both in my life. You are both so different and so fantastic. Yes, you both defy comprehension and you baffle me. In the most incredible ways. Sometimes I just stare at you because you are so beautiful and real and mine.

In the past four years as a mom I've learned so much about hard work, charity, love, selflessness, wants vs. needs, heaven on earth, prayer, my heavenly parents, division of labor, patience, patience, patience, laughter, the relief that can come from letting go, the psychosis that can come from sleep deprivation, time management, organization, clean vs. clutter, patience, public humiliation, forging ahead with a positive attitude, the toxicity of a negative attitude, choices, the immeasurable value of date nights, the immeasurable value of a bubble bath, the immeasurable value of taking myself on a date, the joys of shopping at Safeway alone, routines, the power of a good book, the power of a good run, the power of good friends, the speed at which laundry gets folded while I'm talking to my sister on the phone, the power of having fun, the value of Facebook, blogs, and Instagram, the toxicity of Facebook, blogs and Instagram, the blessing of having a husband who can make our lives at home together all day possible, and, finally, patience. Thanks for making me a mom. I love you guys.

Here's to one more year before Sienna starts remembering things and I really have to get my act together.