strength.

I have this hanging in Jackson and Grace’s room. It was a “must-have” – it reminds me of the incredible bond I have with my babies. ❤

There are moments when I want to scream.  And there are moments when I want to cry.  And there are at least 3085 times a day when I am wondering if I left something at home, at school, in the car, in my room, at daycare, etc…

Being a mom is incredibly difficult.

No news there.

I have watched in awe of my own mother.  My mom, who is one of my favorite people and an absolutely amazing mother, has been through a lot.  When my dad moved out, my mom got a job, kept us in our house, and allowed us to all graduate from the same high school.  She taught me the value of an education and how to curl my hair.  She showed me how to not judge people by anything – you never know what they’re going through.  She taught me how to drive, knits my babies things, and loves me for me.  She is my partner in crime, my favorite mermaid girl, and is, by far the strongest person I have ever met.

Mom’s… we are just meant to be strong.

During the past 2 years, I have taken more notice than ever on my strength and the strength of other mothers around me.  Being a Mom is a completely different way of being –  you wake up before the baby cries.  You hear the “bad” cough rather than the normal one.  You can tell by looking in the eyes of your sweet child if they are teething or if they are hungry or if they are just really sleepy.  It’s amazing.  And yet we somehow are able to spin off schedules at the drop of a hat, we can meal plan like no other and we would sacrifice taking a shower for 3 days if that means we could just get <> that much more sleep.

I am strong.  I change diapers when I’m not in the mood, I give baths when I’m exhausted, and I can find a pair of matching socks with my eyes closed at the bottom of the clean clothes hamper.  I can make a lunch for my son in less than 2 minutes.  And I remember what flavor yogurt he has eaten for the past 4 days.  I hear Grace cry and can find a pacifier under the crib (that mini hockey stick has come in handy…) before she wakes Jackson.

I survived a 3 week stay in the NICU.

And 6 weeks of an antiviral medication.

I have survived having two babies in 11 months.

I have survived post-partum depression/anxiety.

I am strong.

If you’re a Mom, so are you.

I have friends, relatives and colleagues that are Moms.  I watch in awe of them.  They are working, breast feeding, pumping, running marathons and/or 5K’s, have clean homes, their dishes are done and their babies are happy.  They are showing up to appointments, making dinner more than 3 nights a week and are planning on another child.  They are remembering to go to doctor’s appointments, they brush their hair, and they have their babies clothes separated into age appropriate bins.  They remember exactly how old their babies were when they said their first word, where they were when they took their first step, and the words to The Tooth Book by Dr. Seuss (“…I have no teeth says Hilda Hen but women do and so do men….”).  They may have a special song they sing as they rock their baby to sleep, and they know just the spot to touch them to not wake them up.

Moms are strong.

I believe it’s because of the love we have for these special mini people that follow us around, that climb up our legs and whine in that way that we can distinguish to know that they want water and not a cookie.  It’s the love we have that will not let us throw out a certain outfit or will twist our arm to make us sneak them one more Teddy Graham… or we will read that damn Tooth Book one more time.  It’s why we spend more money on a Halloween costume than we do on our own hair cut, color, and blow dry.  (Um, Hulk Hogan.  Need I say more?)  It’s why we start planning for Christmas gifts in August.  It’s why we were given the babies we were.