Mothering

I had this other crazy long blog post and I read it back to myself and started to fall asleep. So, you're welcome for deleting that one!  Today was one of those days that means more than it was supposed to....I felt the need to share the surface parts.

I'm blessed. There's no doubt ever in my mind about that...mostly because if I'm thinking, then I'm breathing and if I'm breathing, I'm alive so there it is - blessed! But truly....I have my soul mate walking with me every day. We aren't perfect. Ever. We fight. We struggle. We triumph. We have two BEAUTIFUL children. Have you seen these kids?! I'm biased. They are healthy and they are happy and they are full of life. We have food. We have shelter. We have family and friends. That's all we need. BLESSED.

My man got up at 5am to get me fresh flowers and coffee and donuts from Dunkin Donuts. My day could have totally stopped at the coffee and donuts and we would have been fine. BUT, then I opened the mani/pedi and it got WAY better!  Then Cole came hustling downstairs, straight to the bookbag (that I was forbidden to touch this weekend) to pull out his hand made card that's covered in adjectives that he feels best describe me. Ear to ear grin on his face, he handed me the card and grabbed me by both cheeks to plant a kiss on my lips. THEN, from the top of the stairs we hear, "Good morniiiiiiiinnnnnggg!!!" from Zella. She said "is it muvers day?" and then she ran to the table to give me the gift she made - a hand painted picture frame magnet with her face in it. I love my kids. Reality show mothering.

About an hour after this magical spectacle, Cole was dressed and banished to his bedroom for lying about destroying one of Zellas toys. Huff. And I had cried twice already because well, on paper, I should have been a mother to two more kids by now. My baby fever is out of control (I believe in Natural Family Planning - so sue me!) and a couple of documents that weren't stapled properly are keeping us from Ukraine. And my dress enhanced the jiggle of my thighs every time I took a step......and then I got deodorant on the dress. And then toothpaste. LOL. All I could think was "just get us all in the car and we'll be ok". Survival mothering.

This morning, on our way to church, I spent 30 minutes "mothering". Not the glamorous kind where Mom sits in the front seat sipping her coffee and holding hands with hubby while the kids count clouds out the mini van window. No. The not glamorous kind. The kind where tissues are being passed because a very upset 7 year old little boy has just found the right words to tell us that he's worried that when we adopt, we won't love him the same anymore. (sound of moms heart shattering). And that the more kids there are, the less attention he will get. The kind of mothering where your heart breaks.....because its your fault.

Sitting in church this morning we watched a video of our sweet friend that has walked through this adoption journey with us, while on her own adoption journey. She's been home for a couple of weeks with her two boys and at the end of the video she says "this isn't my first Mothers day. This Mothers Day isn't about me. This Mothers Day is about the boys. Because its the first Mothers Day, that they have had a mother." Insert sobbing from me, in the 4th row back. The kind of mothering where there is a literal void without them.

This afternoon we got home from church and got the kids lunch and Jake had to go to work. FYI - anyone that thinks that air traffic controllers make too much money, you come talk to me or any other ATC wife about the missed holidays, events, birthdays, etc. We would gladly take less money for our husbands. Zella laid down for a nap and Cole wanted to help me wash the car. And I wanted a nap. And some quiet time. And I laid there and thought about what Cole had said in the car on the way to church. And I got out of bed and put on my car washing clothes and we soaped her up and hosed her down real good. Mothering isn't about "mom".

And then Zella didn't take a nap after all. And at 3pm on a Sunday that's sunny, the answer to needing to wear kids out is the pool. But I was tired. And worn out. And had a lot of carbs so I was a little puffy in the mid section and in my 12 year old girl mind I was stomping my feet and saying "I don't wannnnnnnnnnnnnnaaaaaaaa". But instead, I put on my suit, packed the kids up and swimming we went. Mothering is a choice.

And so after the kiddies were in bed and I was reading all these wonderful FB posts about husbands cooking dinner and kids cleaning houses and perfect Southern Living-esque Mothers Days, I laughed at the irony of today.

Today, on Mothers Day, when everything is supposed to be perfect and rosey, I mothered. I didn't have a perfect day. There was crying and discipline and tantrums over food and a tick (relax, on the dog)...........and there were tears of joy, beaming toothy grins, big wet kiddie kisses, Zella bear hugs, Dunkin Donuts coffee and kisses on the forehead. Today was hard. Today was worth it. Every day is hard. And every day is worth it. And that's just being a mother.

Happy Mothers Day!