Words cannot describe how grateful I am to be a mother…
To have a beautiful little girl of my own whom I adore, and who looks up to me with total trust and gives constant, innocent, pure love.
To be the one that holds her hand and whom she trusts when she is scared to do uncomfortable or embarrassing things like poop or throw up.
To be the one who taught her how to support those around her and be excited for their accomplishments
To be the recipient of those random hugs that mean so much more than the prompted ones. Because from my own memory, I know that the motivation behind those hugs is pure love, missing your mom a little, gratitude that you have her, thinking she is so beautiful, really really loving her a lot.
Grateful to be the voice that sings her to sleep at night and who can banish all fear with a simple hug after a scary dream
Grateful to be her number one cheerleader
Love the sound of tiny footsteps right behind my heels as she follows me everywhere
Love to be the comforting touch that no one else can match.
Love teaching her things that will make her a responsible adult
Love leaving a mother’s touch to simple acts of service like folding the laundry, making beds, changing bums
Love the feeling of a tiny hand to hold, one that I know so well.
Love having opportunities to grow my love daily through patience
Fighting to be a better me for her
When it all comes down to it, I’m grateful to be all the things that my mother was and is for me. I’m grateful to have learned what it means to love tenderly, completely, and unconditionally from a woman of strength.
I just came across this entry from my journal is 2013. That means my little Cora bug was just 2! And it was just me and her most of the time. Reading it seriously humbled me to my core. As I read, I felt again my tenderness, my purpose, my focus on being a loving compassionate mother- all things which I feel slip in and out of each day uncontrollably as I try to figure out this new stage of motherhood with two kids. It’s like squeezing a water balloon in the center and trying to make both sides even. It’s pretty hard and usually the balloon looks lopsided. Unfortunately lately, I don’t feel like the mom who wrote this post 2 years ago. But that is not the point of this post. The point is that I am so grateful for words. So grateful for the me that took time to write down my sincerest feelings about motherhood so that the me today could be inspired by the me of yesterday. Here is to spending more time writing in my journal so I can keep learning from myself. And here is to every new day I have- to change, to try and love a little bit better, to hold my tongue a little harder, and soak in these beautiful angels I have been blessed with.