|Ali (22 weeks) and Mr. Tristen (13 1/2 months : )|
Simply stated, I never knew the true nature of the well-versed cliche, “a mother’s love,” until I became one.
|My daughter and I <3|
I would love to cuddle with their soft, delicious-smelling, warm little bodies in the darkness of the night and lovingly find their gentle hand seeking comfort by laying ever-so-gently on my face. But I really, really love the little sleep I get and Jarod, my husband, adamantly refuses to sleep with any of the kids in our bed (unless their brand-new tiny newborn infants) and remarks it’s fine if I want to but he’s “sleeping on the couch then.”
|Only tiny babies get this treatment from daddy.|
Whilst at the same time, I deeply love my husband just as much, if not more, than sleep.
It is incredibly hard trying to find a balance with it all.
|Trissy with his stunna shades on.|
|Aiden and his cars. Do you think he has enough??|
I would give more money than my bank account has ever seen to have a weekend of nothingness, a weekend free from kids, responsibility and free from a mother’s guilt of actually making some time for herself, a weekend where I didn’t have to strategically plot out breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks and nap times to hinder the possibility of an emotional breakdown or temper tantrum by any or all of my kids along with my array of other responsibilities I need to tend to (discipline, teaching, clothing, bathing, cleaning, folding, playing and preparing everything).
Nevertheless, I still want to be the very best mom that these kids could ever have because they deserve that. They deserve someone who loving disciplines, reenforces integrity and honesty and makes their childhood as magical as humanly possible, all with a smile on her face.
|At the Pumpkin Patch 2011.|
So as Jarod and I sat at the dining table scattered with dirty dishes and messes only little boys can graciously give, adjacent from the living room that seemingly just regurgitated all the toys ever made while listening to our children make more noise than we thought humanly possible by three very small human beings, I cringed at the my own thoughts of how damn annoying they were and at how much I hate that I think those thoughts.
I should be a good mother, a better mother; I should be loving them.
“Do you ever think you’re a bad parent?” I asked Jarod hoping for some sort of common ground, something to connect us and to ease my own insecurities at parenting because these are the thoughts that fill my mind at any given moment, any given second,
I analyze and contemplate my own success (or lack thereof) as their mother constantly and often feel heavily burdened and exhausted by my inability to meet my own expectations.
Jarod lightly chuckled at the thought of being a bad parent as he shook his head, “no, they’re annoying!
|A "not-so-annoying" moment for him :)|
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