While celebrating the Super Bowl with family tonight, Nik laughed and played, screamed and shouted, jumped and danced, giggled and whispered secrets. As I watched her run off down the hallway with one of her cousins, I heard her little sweet, sing songy toddler voice say, "Come on, let's hold hands," and reach out for her cousins hand to place in hers. And, I realized that I never wanted to forget her like this: so sweet, so pure, so innocent, so uninhibited;so unaffected by the world.
And, I just hope that she remains that way. Heaven help the person that trys to take that from her. I just pray that I don't ever do anything myself to take any of that glistening hope And innocence away from her. Some days she pushes me to my limits, and I am the first to admit, I am not a patient person. I wish I was. I feel as though God gave me children so that I may learn patience, but it is not an easy task for me. Very often, I find myself silently, and aloud sometimes, "God, grant me patience." I want so much to be that guiding strength for her, to be her Rock.
Having children has taught me so much about the kind of mother I want to be to my children, and the kind of mother I know I don't want to be. Everyday I am ever aware of how my words and actions are affecting her and shaping her life. You catch yourself, and wonder what is the right way to approach this situation, what are the right words, the proper explanation; what is the lesson to be learned? Children are walking reflections of our words and actions. Some days I feel like a puppeteer. I hold the strings, and which way I pull them, inexplicably, I know that I determine the course of action and sequence. It's a terrifying realization that we hold so much power. There are some days, I'm terrified that I do. And there are days, I wish I had pulled them in a different direction.
But, I know that each day brings a new opportunity to start fresh, and I am grateful for each day that I have with them. I feel as though, with each new day, I have a little more patience, a little more insight, a little more love to give. And, I know each day I love a little more, each day I carve out a little more time, that there are that many more giggles, that many more cuddles, that many more snuggles, and that many more, "I love you, moms'." And those are the moments that make it up a life.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Friday, February 3, 2012
me.
It has been so long since I posted, I'm pretty sure there is no one out there, and shamefully, I don't know that I deserve your time even if you were. Ever since our computer went kaput, well, to be honest, I got down on myself and gave up on myself and you, sadly.
My husband and I were having a conversation the other day, that led well, to a small disagreement/argument, and it made me want to put something on paper, if not for myself, than at least for every other mother and woman I have had the pleasure of meeting, and for those I may never meet.
The details of the discussion are not important, but the main point that my husband touched upon was something that I wanted to get off my head, per say. Essentially what was expressed to me was that in choosing to be a stay at home mom, that I "gave up the option" to be well, me. That I gave up the option to pursue something I was passionate about, or I should say, things that I was passionate about. That I had other responsibilities as a SAHM, and for lack of better words, that who I was (as a seperate entitiy than what fell under the title'mother'). My dreams, or who I needed to be, to grow as a person was no longer an option for me. Even as I write these words, it stings, and tears well in my eyes. The hurt is still fresh. And, even as I write these words, I am aware that I probably will not get the time to finish them, and yes, I'm aware that they are other 'motherly, wifely, things' I should be tending to.
Being a SAHM was my choice, and there are days that it is the hardest job on earth. And there are days if I wonder if I'm doing the right thing by my family and my children. And there are days that I fear that I'm going to turn my daughter into myself, and that scares me to death! To know that I am responsible for shaping these little people, and that each moment I may be saying or doing something that I can't, well, undo, terrifies me.
When Nik was born, I knew that who I was, as a seperate person, was not nearly as grand as the life that lay in my hands. She was so innocent, so pure, so alive, a living, breathing, creature that I was responsible for, and she was perfect. I put my wants, my desires, my dreams and goals aside and gave everything I could to her, to be the best possible mother I could be to her. And I strove to still be a good wife, and home maker, and provider for our family. I did not want to go back to work and hand my 12 week old newborn miracle to a someone I barely knew. But, I had no choice, staying at home was not an option for us, and I cried myself to sleep every night, every morning and throughout the day, almost always when I expressed milk for our daughter for 14 months.
I am the first person to say that I wanted to put her first, whether, that is the right thing to do and whether that makes me a 'better mother,' I can't be sure, I just know, I thought it did. But does it make you a better mother, to loose yourself. Now, I'm not so sure. And i know, I'm not the first mother to fall into this niche. After my husband and I's discussion, I lay awake thinking about and pondering the words we had spoken.
Does giving up yourself entirely, and succumbing to the title:'the mom' make you a better mom, and therefore, does it make you a better person to parent your children? Shouldn't your children watch you be your own person? Shouldn't your children watch you have goals and dreams, and passions? After all, what are we without passion? Mere animals, I think one person said once. There is more to me than, 'the wife,' or 'the mother'. I am and was a person before I married and had children, was I not. Why does having children mean that I become a lifeless entity who has no dimension, no sense of self, or worth outside of the title, 'mom' and our home? After all, being a wife and a mother, while it can define me, doesn't encompass all that I am as an individual. I don't think that it should, which is what led me here, to you, or well rather, to myself as well.
I believe I am a better, more well rounded person to my children, and to my partner, if I am happy, and well adjusted, and have a strong sense of self, id, and self-worth. I know I feel like I am, and I can see it in the way that I parent; in the patience that I have, in the words that run through my mind and inevitably out of my mouth, in the way that I 'play,' in the snuggles and cuddles, and in the spaces in between. I don't want to end up one of those mothers who one day snaps, and the whole neighborhood is oblivious, because I seemed like such a June Cleaver, Martha Stewart, person who has it all put together; suburban, PTA, soccer mom, house wife. I am not perfect, I'm the first one to admit it. There are days I wish I was. Yes, I had in my mind, a picture of myself as a SAHM, and that picture seemed a lot more glossy and shimmering, and seemingly wrapped in a precisely cut and perfectly knotted sparkling, iridescent, pink, polka dot heart bow.
But, I can't help but think that by pushing every desire, every dream, every passion, every aspiration, every part of what makes me, me aside for 'later'. By pushing every part of myself as a distinct, individual, person down deep into the darkest corners of my being;and keeping it there for a time when one day, I MAY have more time to let it blossom. I can't help but think, that if I were to do that, that not only would it be the wrong thing to do, for myself, and for my family, but that I would be cheating myself and my family out of ever really finding out who I am as a person. And what if I am never at a point in my life, when it's MY time, or what if it's too late. Then what will my children know about me, about who I was as an individual, a distinct person other than, 'mom'? When, I know, for certain, that I am so much more than that, no matter how deserving that title alone is to me, and to so many others out there. I know, there is more to me, and I want everyone to know. And just in time, I think I hear the little one calling.
My husband and I were having a conversation the other day, that led well, to a small disagreement/argument, and it made me want to put something on paper, if not for myself, than at least for every other mother and woman I have had the pleasure of meeting, and for those I may never meet.
The details of the discussion are not important, but the main point that my husband touched upon was something that I wanted to get off my head, per say. Essentially what was expressed to me was that in choosing to be a stay at home mom, that I "gave up the option" to be well, me. That I gave up the option to pursue something I was passionate about, or I should say, things that I was passionate about. That I had other responsibilities as a SAHM, and for lack of better words, that who I was (as a seperate entitiy than what fell under the title'mother'). My dreams, or who I needed to be, to grow as a person was no longer an option for me. Even as I write these words, it stings, and tears well in my eyes. The hurt is still fresh. And, even as I write these words, I am aware that I probably will not get the time to finish them, and yes, I'm aware that they are other 'motherly, wifely, things' I should be tending to.
Being a SAHM was my choice, and there are days that it is the hardest job on earth. And there are days if I wonder if I'm doing the right thing by my family and my children. And there are days that I fear that I'm going to turn my daughter into myself, and that scares me to death! To know that I am responsible for shaping these little people, and that each moment I may be saying or doing something that I can't, well, undo, terrifies me.
When Nik was born, I knew that who I was, as a seperate person, was not nearly as grand as the life that lay in my hands. She was so innocent, so pure, so alive, a living, breathing, creature that I was responsible for, and she was perfect. I put my wants, my desires, my dreams and goals aside and gave everything I could to her, to be the best possible mother I could be to her. And I strove to still be a good wife, and home maker, and provider for our family. I did not want to go back to work and hand my 12 week old newborn miracle to a someone I barely knew. But, I had no choice, staying at home was not an option for us, and I cried myself to sleep every night, every morning and throughout the day, almost always when I expressed milk for our daughter for 14 months.
I am the first person to say that I wanted to put her first, whether, that is the right thing to do and whether that makes me a 'better mother,' I can't be sure, I just know, I thought it did. But does it make you a better mother, to loose yourself. Now, I'm not so sure. And i know, I'm not the first mother to fall into this niche. After my husband and I's discussion, I lay awake thinking about and pondering the words we had spoken.
Does giving up yourself entirely, and succumbing to the title:'the mom' make you a better mom, and therefore, does it make you a better person to parent your children? Shouldn't your children watch you be your own person? Shouldn't your children watch you have goals and dreams, and passions? After all, what are we without passion? Mere animals, I think one person said once. There is more to me than, 'the wife,' or 'the mother'. I am and was a person before I married and had children, was I not. Why does having children mean that I become a lifeless entity who has no dimension, no sense of self, or worth outside of the title, 'mom' and our home? After all, being a wife and a mother, while it can define me, doesn't encompass all that I am as an individual. I don't think that it should, which is what led me here, to you, or well rather, to myself as well.
I believe I am a better, more well rounded person to my children, and to my partner, if I am happy, and well adjusted, and have a strong sense of self, id, and self-worth. I know I feel like I am, and I can see it in the way that I parent; in the patience that I have, in the words that run through my mind and inevitably out of my mouth, in the way that I 'play,' in the snuggles and cuddles, and in the spaces in between. I don't want to end up one of those mothers who one day snaps, and the whole neighborhood is oblivious, because I seemed like such a June Cleaver, Martha Stewart, person who has it all put together; suburban, PTA, soccer mom, house wife. I am not perfect, I'm the first one to admit it. There are days I wish I was. Yes, I had in my mind, a picture of myself as a SAHM, and that picture seemed a lot more glossy and shimmering, and seemingly wrapped in a precisely cut and perfectly knotted sparkling, iridescent, pink, polka dot heart bow.
But, I can't help but think that by pushing every desire, every dream, every passion, every aspiration, every part of what makes me, me aside for 'later'. By pushing every part of myself as a distinct, individual, person down deep into the darkest corners of my being;and keeping it there for a time when one day, I MAY have more time to let it blossom. I can't help but think, that if I were to do that, that not only would it be the wrong thing to do, for myself, and for my family, but that I would be cheating myself and my family out of ever really finding out who I am as a person. And what if I am never at a point in my life, when it's MY time, or what if it's too late. Then what will my children know about me, about who I was as an individual, a distinct person other than, 'mom'? When, I know, for certain, that I am so much more than that, no matter how deserving that title alone is to me, and to so many others out there. I know, there is more to me, and I want everyone to know. And just in time, I think I hear the little one calling.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Stationery card
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Stationery card
Happy Heart Day Valentine's Card
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I've had a lot of time these days to think about my life, and all the different ways I could have changed things.
So much of my life, I've spent afraid, hiding the real me.
Pretending to be someone or something I wasn't, hoping no one could see.
But, I grew tired of the stage and the part I had to play.
This came to me last night..part of a poem I wrote years ago. It came to me after a discussion with my husband I plan to post on later.
So much of my life, I've spent afraid, hiding the real me.
Pretending to be someone or something I wasn't, hoping no one could see.
But, I grew tired of the stage and the part I had to play.
This came to me last night..part of a poem I wrote years ago. It came to me after a discussion with my husband I plan to post on later.
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