Moms

Mother's Day is a great time to reflect on why I love being a mom. Because I do. Most of the time.

Reminder #1-It's nearing 10:00 am. Damon is at school, I have just finished nursing the baby and he is fast asleep, and the girls are watching tv. Carter is beyond ready for a morning nap, not to mention he needs his diaper changed and clean clothes. So I carefully snuggle McKay into Allie's arms and take Carter up to his closet. Yes, he sleeps in a closet.

I change and dress him and feel the need to put him quickly in his bed, as I can hear that McKay is now crying downstairs. Apparently, Allie isn't as comfy as mommy. But before I can put Carter in bed, he finds Goodnight Moon on the shelf and hands it to me, sitting down in my lap. Knowing that his attention span for books is all of 5 seconds, I can't refuse. So I open the book and start reading it to him. But he doesn't care about the words. He just wants to point to the pictures on the page and babble nonsense words. And my heart melts.

Suddenly, I'm thinking about the hundreds of hours I spent with one-year-old Damon on my lap, reading thousands of books. He didn't have to fight for his mommy's attention. He didn't have to sleep in a closet.

So I stay there, pointing out kittens and mittens, cows and moons for a little longer. McKay can wait. Allie will be patient with him. I'm enjoying being a mom to Carter.

Allie took this picture of the three of us. It breaks my heart a little to see how much he wants his mommy.

***

There are so many hard moments. At least one kid is crying almost all the time. That doesn't bother me. But when two kids are crying, I start to get a little agitated. And when three or even FOUR of the five kids are crying (which has only happened once), I feel like joining in myself. This morning, Allie decided she wanted to fight me on everything; she didn't like her hair, she didn't want to clean her room, and she certainly wasn't going to give in to anything I said. And so there was a LOT of crying on her part. Carter refused his morning nap, and was especially grouchy by 10:30. And McKay just felt like crying. It was a stressful couple of hours until Allie went to school and Carter went to bed. Now it's just an unpleasant memory.

***

Reminder #2-Having kids means lots of funny moments, too.

One day, we were driving in the car and talking to the kids about cliches. We were giving examples, such as, "Hold on to your horses," and "Holy smokes." Kyla, from the backseat, came up with one of her own. "Hold on to your smokes!," she yelled.

This morning, before Damon left for school, he was attending to McKay while I cleaned up breakfast. He called down, "McKay's back hair is curly!" I was a bit confused. I had never noticed my baby having curly hair on his back. And that is definitely something I would have noticed. When I asked for clarification, he said, "the hair on the back of his head is curly!" Phew.

***

Having a baby is hard. Especially when I have so many other people to care for. At least once a day, McKay cries himself to sleep in his swing or his bouncy chair because I just can't get to him. There are so many other little people (and sometimes big people) who need me. My left shoulder always smells like spit up. I'm tired and grouchy and irritated because there are always so many messes to clean up. There just isn't enough of me to go around.

***

Reminder #3- Dinner is cooking and is nearly done. It's chaotic, because all the kids are hungry and have been making messes while I have been cooking dinner. But I have to stop and take a break because McKay is hungry, too. And I can't ignore him forever. So I go into his room and shut the door behind me. I could use a few minutes of quiet, too.

I nurse McKay and he falls asleep. I put him up on my shoulder to burp him, and stop for a moment to breathe in his newborn goodness. I can hear the kids getting antsy downstairs. Part of me says I should hurry and get dinner on the table. But I don't listen to that voice. I listen to the one that tells me to snuggle with my baby a little longer. His legs are curled underneath him, pressing against my still flabby tummy, and I know that it won't be long before he won't want to be all curled up on me.

And so I rock him, savoring his even breathing on my neck, and wish we could stay like this forever. Because even though there may not be enough of me, physically, to meet his every need, I'll always have more than enough love to give. And I think that's what it means to be a mom.