When I realize that it's been an entire month since I've written, and this long:
since I've shared photos, my initial, instinctual response is to start in on myself with the onslaught of could have's, should have's, and if you were a good mom you would have's. I begin measuring myself up against other moms. Actually it's not other moms that I compare myself to, it's just one other mom. You know the one. She's slim and stylish, with a nice tidy home. She gardens, and crafts, and has playdates, and daily art projects lined up for her kids. She reads, and writes tender, moving blog posts for every special occasion, and every non-occasion, and can make a killer lasagna. She's Super-Mom.
Round 1.
Certainly it wouldn't have taken her over a month to share pictures from Easter.
After a dip in the creek and a spare set of clothes, we all enjoyed a birthday ice cream treat in honor of our birthday girl.
The Saturday after Milani's real birthday we had a little party for her. I know Super-Mom throws a killer birthday party, with themes and activities, and the best favors. In fact her toddler birthday parties are more cohesive than my wedding. Our party wasn't color coordinated with custom water bottle labels, and award winning cupcakes with homemade toppers. It was hot dogs, and hamburgers grilled over charcoal. Watermelon, and salads, and chips and chex mix, at the same park as her first birthday party together with close family and friends. Milani had a ball, playing on the playground, swinging on the swings, and carting around her new red Radio Flyer wagon. And the smile on her face is enough for me.
The thing I need to remind myself, is that this Super-Mom I compare myself to is a phantom. Sure, there are amazing mothers who do amazing things for their kids, who plan incredible parties, who keep spotless homes, and who find the time to run three miles every morning, but no ONE mom can do it all. The mom who does everything, doesn't exist. When I feel the urge to inflict wounds on my own ego, I need to take a step back and recognize the things I'm not so great at. I need to show myself some kindness, and give myself permission to work on improving those areas, without any guilt. And in fairness I need to recognize, even celebrate, the areas I am doing well.
And I hope with all my heart that they will know, in their bones, and hearts, and souls, that they are loved. I may falter, and drop the ball. I make mistakes, and learn as I go. I often fall short of my own expectations, but I parent from the maternal instinct burning in my heart. My insurance policy is always the same, to fall back on loving them hard, and showing them that.
since I've shared photos, my initial, instinctual response is to start in on myself with the onslaught of could have's, should have's, and if you were a good mom you would have's. I begin measuring myself up against other moms. Actually it's not other moms that I compare myself to, it's just one other mom. You know the one. She's slim and stylish, with a nice tidy home. She gardens, and crafts, and has playdates, and daily art projects lined up for her kids. She reads, and writes tender, moving blog posts for every special occasion, and every non-occasion, and can make a killer lasagna. She's Super-Mom.
Round 1.
Certainly it wouldn't have taken her over a month to share pictures from Easter.
Pictures of Milani rocking her first Easter egg hunt. And by rocking I mean, finding one egg and then becoming obsessed with opening it and devouring chocolate.
Her diet for a majority of Easter Sunday consisted of chocolate, jelly beans, and bacon. (I wonder if Super-Mom would let her kid consume as much sugar as Milani did?)
Round 2.
My lack of writing, and posting has nothing to do with lack of material, or even necessarily with lack of time I suppose. I have had plenty of projects keeping me busy, but to be honest some afternoons I curl up and nap with my littles. Some nights I go to bed at eight thirty with Milani. I'm pretty sure Super-Mom doesn't sleep. She stays up late into the night baking, or cleaning. Heaven knows that when the weather is nice, I drop everything (leave laundry in a heap and dishes in the sink), and book it out of the house.
We've been working in the yard, planting the garden. Milani, entertaining herself with a random cat house thingy left in the yard by the neighbor.
This thing kept her occupied for several hours, on several days. (Would Super-Mom let her kid walk around with someone else's animal shelter thingy on her head? I wonder...)
Round 3.
When, in April, the thermometer hit eighty, we filled up the baby pool.
Even though the sun was hot, the hose was cold, really cold. But cold baby pool water is nothing to the kiddos.
Except for Paisley, who wasn't thrilled about the cold water, and was perfectly content watching the action from her perch on dry land.
Milani thought it was a hoot to run as fast as she could down the steep hill until she whiped out. The harder she fell, the harder she laughed. (Whatta ya think about that Super-M?)
Round 4:
What I'm beating myself up the most about, though, is Milani's Birthday. On May 9th, my doodle bug turned two. I had planned to get a post up on her birthday displaying a collage of pictures that illustrate her changes and growth over the past year. I was going to write a touching, heartfelt message to my eldest daughter on her birthday, making every word meaningful, every sentence perfect. And I know Super-Mom has me beat on this one. She would have had the post planned out and eloquently written weeks in advance. She would have been poised to click "publish" at 12:01 on the day of her little's birthday.
Sometimes I get swept into thinking that an eloquently written birthday blog post will make Milani feel loved. That I should be better about keeping up with her baby book (poor Berkley doesn't even have a baby book) so that she knows how she was loved. Is loved. The one thing I know, that I will make sure of, is that these girls WILL know they are loved, despite the fact that the baby books and birthday blogs are not my forte. They may not have sentimental keepsakes, baby books filled to the brim with milestones and stories, but they will have memories, and relationships, and hugs and kisses and laughter.
Sometimes I get swept into thinking that an eloquently written birthday blog post will make Milani feel loved. That I should be better about keeping up with her baby book (poor Berkley doesn't even have a baby book) so that she knows how she was loved. Is loved. The one thing I know, that I will make sure of, is that these girls WILL know they are loved, despite the fact that the baby books and birthday blogs are not my forte. They may not have sentimental keepsakes, baby books filled to the brim with milestones and stories, but they will have memories, and relationships, and hugs and kisses and laughter.
On Milani's birthday we met Ariana and the gang and the park for the afternoon. The boys found the nearest mud puddle and went to town. Honestly, I think nothing makes kids happier than playing in water, throw in some mud and it's a party! If there was a mother who could give Super-Mom a serious run for her money, my sister would be the one to do it. She has patience by the boat load, her home is always organized, she runs half marathons and triathlons for kicks, and she's certainly not intimidated by a little mud.
After a dip in the creek and a spare set of clothes, we all enjoyed a birthday ice cream treat in honor of our birthday girl.
The Saturday after Milani's real birthday we had a little party for her. I know Super-Mom throws a killer birthday party, with themes and activities, and the best favors. In fact her toddler birthday parties are more cohesive than my wedding. Our party wasn't color coordinated with custom water bottle labels, and award winning cupcakes with homemade toppers. It was hot dogs, and hamburgers grilled over charcoal. Watermelon, and salads, and chips and chex mix, at the same park as her first birthday party together with close family and friends. Milani had a ball, playing on the playground, swinging on the swings, and carting around her new red Radio Flyer wagon. And the smile on her face is enough for me.
And to make a fantastic party day even sweeter, our kind neighbors gave Milani a springy horse, and a kitchen set that their children had outgrown.
The thing I need to remind myself, is that this Super-Mom I compare myself to is a phantom. Sure, there are amazing mothers who do amazing things for their kids, who plan incredible parties, who keep spotless homes, and who find the time to run three miles every morning, but no ONE mom can do it all. The mom who does everything, doesn't exist. When I feel the urge to inflict wounds on my own ego, I need to take a step back and recognize the things I'm not so great at. I need to show myself some kindness, and give myself permission to work on improving those areas, without any guilt. And in fairness I need to recognize, even celebrate, the areas I am doing well.
My girls will have this blog to look back on, packed full of pictures of them as babies, and toddlers, and kids. Pictures of feet, and smiles.
They will remember afternoons in the yard, and at the park.
They will know the way a blueberry muffin tastes, warm from the oven on a rainy afternoon, and how a hot dinner shared with family feeds the body and nourishes the soul.
And I hope with all my heart that they will know, in their bones, and hearts, and souls, that they are loved. I may falter, and drop the ball. I make mistakes, and learn as I go. I often fall short of my own expectations, but I parent from the maternal instinct burning in my heart. My insurance policy is always the same, to fall back on loving them hard, and showing them that.
I might fall short of "Super-Mom" but, oh, how these girls are loved!