not just a piece of me but all of me

Mama and me time

Mama and me time

My husband is not good with babies. They can’t talk, walk, or wipe their own butt and sometimes their needs can be quite ridiculous. My first son had colic, and could only be soothed if you held him under his armpits and made a circular motion with your arms like you were rowing a boat. It was awful! We seriously contemplated only having one child because of the severity of the colic.
Our second son does not have colic and is a happy baby for the most part under one condition; he must be held ALL the time. Compared to rowing for hours, carrying a baby is a walk in the park. However, if my husband has a choice between carrying a baby or running around with a toddler, he will pick a toddle every single time. Maybe that first three months of colic with our first just really ruined the baby experience for him or babies are just not his forte.
Anyways, yesterday my husband took the baby for Mother’s day so I could be with my toddler. We went grocery shopping, made muffins, went to the arcade, and watched a movie. These are things I normally do on the weekend but it was special to my toddler this time because I did not have the baby. My toddler kept telling me it was “mamma and me time” and “just the two of us” and “I love you so much” It melted my heart to know he was having so much fun with me but at the same time I felt guilty. I felt guilty because I have been forcing him to share his time with me with his baby brother. While I’ve been busting my hump, ensuring that all of the baby’s needs were met I neglected to see that my toddler needed me. My toddler may not need me all of the time, but some of the time he needs more than just a piece of me, sometimes he needs all of me. It comforts me to know that he is so selfless that he can share me with his baby brother but I need to make more of an effort to give him all of me when he needs me.

Mother’s Day

Happy Mother’s Day! I’m not one for holidays, especially those “Hallmark” holidays but Mother’s Day is an exception. If you read my post on adventures in scheming you will find out quickly that I am a bargain shopper and I find the holidays to be no longer about the holiday itself, but more about the materialistic garbage that you can buy for these holidays. I’m in utter disbelief when I see pictures posted on social media of rooms, yes, I said rooms full of presents on Christmas or an entire kitchen table full of junk for Easter. What happened to just a basket? I refuse to fall for the marketing schemes of these holidays and that is why I despise the “Hallmark” holidays even more. I’m not going to rush to the local drugstore the day of said holiday and buy you over priced flowers, candy, stuff animal or a card that was written by some unknown person with his/her meaningful words written on it for you take as your own. Nor do I expect my husband to do the same.What am I even suppose to do with that card. Keep it for the day? Week? Forever?
Nope. Not doing it.
Mother’s day is different. I found this out last year when I waited patiently for my husband to surprise me with something on Mother’s Day. By the afternoon, I realized that he didn’t get me anything and broke down in tears with disappointment. My husband didn’t understand why I was so upset. He knows how I feel about holidays, especially those superficial ones created for consumerism.
Like I said before, Mother’s Day is different.
Being a mother is life changing. Forget the years of schooling, the diplomas, the exams, the jobs, the raises, the car, the house, the vacations. It is the single, most important accomplishment of your life. Once you have a child, every emotion, every thought, everything you do is for your child. Motherhood is the selfless act of giving up a part of you.
This is why Mother’s Day is different. Here is to all the mothers out there that sacrificed a part of them to create something bigger. To the selfless mothers out there that continue to give a little bit of themselves everyday. This day is for you. Take a minute and celebrate your life accomplishments.
Yes, I want your burnt breakfast, your card made of imperfect hand marks, your picture framed in cheap popsicle sticks. I want that hug, that kiss, that smile. I want it all because it is my day to embrace it all.
Happy Mother’s Day.