Mothers need encouragement.
Actually, all women need encouragement. Not just mothers. I’m saying mothers need it because I am one and currently I’m up to my NECK IN CHILDREN.
It’s funny how you continue to grow as a person even in adulthood. I’ve had some remarkably tough days lately, involving things like all three of my kids crying at the same time for different reasons as I threw microwaved pizza on paper plates and dumped applesauce into bowls and stubbed all of my toes on various pieces of furniture because I was rushing to put something in their mouths to stop the whining and crying.
A few years ago, an evening that stressful would have wrecked me. Like I would have probably yelled at them to stop whining/crying/asking incessant questions/screeching, which would have made them do it even more, and then I would have written an angry blog post about my children who are clearly trying to ruin me — RUIN me, I tell you.
|Yes, that is Scotch tape.|
Now I have reached a place where I realize that I’m not being ruined, I’m being worn in. My entire body has expanded and contracted three times to accommodate new life. My lap has been climbed into hundreds of times, my arms have carried 7 pounds and 47 pounds, my shoulders have been gummed by teething babies, and I have dealt with SO MANY ODD SITUATIONS, OMG, THEY CAN STOP NOW, thanks to my oldest son.
No … my children aren’t trying to ruin me. They are, without even being aware of it, shaping me.