Being a Mom

I have no doubt that being a mom is the hardest job that I will ever have.  Some aspects of mothering come naturally and others I have to really work at.  Some days I have the patience of a saint.  Other days . . . . well, I cringe at the way that I speak to my kids.  And I wonder what they will remember of their childhoods.  Will they remember the fun songs we sing together and all the books we read?  Or will they remember that I yelled at them or pushed them away when they wanted more of me than I felt I had left to give?  I desperately want to have a perfect relationship with my kids, but I know that's impossible.  No one has that.

So, instead, I try to take each day at a time.  I try to take some time each day for each of my kids to have some one-on-one time with me.  Mostly, I try to have an endless supply of patience.

I try to remember that even though Ephraim is the oldest of three children, he is only 2.  I try not to get frustrated when I am called upstairs after bedtime or naptime has started because he has "to go potty" often two or three times.  Or, I at least try not to let that frustration show.  I try not to get upset or yell when he has accidents that aren't very accidental.  I try to remain understanding when Ephraim takes toys from his sister or doesn't want to share.  I try not to lose my temper with him when he has tantrums, but it is difficult.

I try to keep Tabitha from feeling that "middle child" syndrome - ignored because she's neither the oldest nor the youngest.  I try to remember that although she plays very well independently, she still needs interaction from/with me.  I try not to get frustrated that she can't do everything her big brother can do even though she wants to.  I try to help her deal with her own frustrations with her limitations as well.

I fear that Johanna gets the raw end of the deal.  Since she can not yet grab at me or get into stuff, she often gets left for last.  In trying to spend time with the big kids, she at times gets left alone crying.  I know she doesn't understand that she has to share me yet, but someday she will, and part of me hates that.

I hate that I can't be everything to my kids.  I hate that I can't give them my undivided attention ever.  I hate . . . . well, there are a lot of things that I hate and that I fear.  But, I do the best that I can and pray that it is enough.  I make room on my lap for all three kids.  I encourage my children to love each other.  I take a few moments to snuggle each kid before bed.  I tell them constantly how much their daddy and I love them and tell myself that actions speak louder than words.  I remind myself that they are only this age once and one day, all too soon I'm sure, I'll be lamenting the loss of baby snuggles, nursing in the middle of the night, boo-boos that need kissed, toys strewn over the floor, deciphering babytalk, and the countless other activities that fill my days.

And, I pray daily that they will look back on their childhoods with fondness and never doubt for a moment that they were loved and wanted more than anything.