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mother’s love

Where Does The Time Go?

by beth on February 15, 2010

in Being a Mom

I was look­ing through pic­tures last night on a nos­tal­gia ben­der. And I totally apol­o­gize in advance for the sug­ary sweet over­load of this post, but BY GOD ALMIGHTY AND ALL THAT IS HOLY THIS WORLD when I saw this one from when D-man was born, his hand next to Hubby’s, it broke me into a mil­lion pieces and then more because I couldn’t help but think of each time I held the kids for the first time. Look­ing into their eyes, exam­in­ing all their fin­gers and toes, won­der­ing what the future held for them. Drink­ing in their beauty.

And let me tell you that new­borns are beau­ti­ful, espe­cially when they are yours. You can’t help but look at them in total awe & won­der think­ing “I helped make you & you are per­fect in every way.” Even if they have a weird big toe you don’t care because you LOVE EVERY DARN PART.

I remem­ber the look of Hubby hold­ing them for the first time. He beamed love from every pour like sun­shine radi­ated from him warm­ing every­thing in his pres­ence with his love. It’s the same look he has when he tucks them in at night. That look that crushes me. It makes me love him more today than yesterday.

Now the kids are all grow­ing up so fast. They are such amaz­ing lit­tle peo­ple & before I know it they’ll be grown up. Heck they might even be blog­ging about their own fam­i­lies one day & have their own nos­tal­gia sugar-laced posts about their chil­dren. But I can remem­ber when all their hands looked so small. I can remem­ber when we they fit snugly against our bod­ies and their hands melted into the palms of ours. I want to hold those moments close to my heart & never let them go even if time moves forward.

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I have a weak stom­ach. I have always had a weak stom­ach. It’s some­thing that has been with me my whole life. One of the things that sends me down­hill fast is that I can­not stand the smell or sight of vomit. I once had some­one tell me that when I became a mom that would change. I would like to find that per­son and tell them they were wrong, very wrong. In fact, I’m con­sid­er­ing hunt­ing them down. Then forc­ing them to come to my house today & help clean up.

Let’s just say I have dis­cov­ered 4 truths today.

1. eat­ing a cheese stick when you are sick is not the way to go (always ask Mommy before decid­ing to do this).

2. not telling Mommy that you didn’t make it to the bath­room or all the way into the toi­let when you got sick is also not the way to go (again just tell me, don’t let me find it on my own).

3. just because you are a Mommy doesn’t ever mean your going to have a strong stom­ach to deal with #1 or #2 in this list (some things just never change).

4. deal­ing #1 or #2 on list, regard­less of how strong or weak of a stom­ach you have, is some­thing that has to be done in love or you’ll never be able to laugh about it or gen­tly say “It’s OK. Mommy’s got it all taken care of. Let’s get you back in bed.” while car­ing for a sick child instead of “WHAT THE ________ !!!(fill the blank with your own exple­tive) Clean it up your­self.” (even though part of you really wants to do the lat­ter, you don’t because you see that lit­tle face & you feel awful that your kid is feel­ing so rotten).

I may not have a devel­oped a strong stom­ach as a Mom, but I have devel­oped a Mother’s love.  Love that flour­ishes in spite of cheese stick vomit.  Yum-o.

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