Friday, February 25, 2011


This morning my daughter walked out of the house for school in a huff. She left her breakfast uneaten, the cup of milk untouched.

All because as I braided her hair, I gave her a piece of mind for being rude, for answering back, for not knowing how to "talk to mama" over a trivial issue...

I know that she will have forgotten the incident by evening and will come home with her usual smile and hugs...

Somehow I have an expectation - of being treated and spoken to like a "mom" and I don't know if its misplaced... My reaction to this sense of loss of control or authority has left me sad, confused and embarrassed!

There's much I need to learn to be a mother worthy of such beautiful kids...


Temped to share this... Whacked it off Arunima's blog.. Thank you!!!

Before I was a Mom I made and ate hot meals.

I had unstained clothing, I even took pleasure in shopping.

I had quiet, uninterrupted conversations on the phone.

I had privacy in the bathroom.

Before I was a Mom, I slept as late as I wanted and never cared about the time I went to bed.

I was able to sleep the entire night uninterrupted and woke up with a feeling of being well-rested and ready for a new day.

Before I was a Mom, I never got up every few minutes, stopping whatever I was doing - voluntarily, just to be sure all in the house was okay or to lay my hand on the back of a sleeping child to be sure they were breathing and not feverish.

I brushed my hair and my teeth every day. I enjoyed leisurely bubble baths whenever I wanted.

I had time to clean house and read a magazine.

Before I was a Mom, I renewed my spirit by having lit candles burning all through the house; never nervous about that practice injuring fingers or being a fire hazard.

I never tripped over toys or forgot words to lullabies and nursery rhymes. I was confident.

I was not concerned about the paint on the wall, leaving a window open or the front gate unlocked.

I never worried whether or not my houseplants were poisonous or what I kept under the kitchen sink or where I kept the sharp knives.

I never gave a second thought to the safety of electrical outlets or the accessibility of the medicine chest.

Before I was a Mom, the word "immunizations" meant almost nothing to me. 

I had never held down a screaming, fearful child so that a doctor could do tests or give shots.

I had never been puked on, spit on, chewed on, pooped and peed on or pinched by tiny fingers.

I had forgotten how real monsters hide in closets without a night-light on and that bed-bugs bite too.

Before I was a Mom, I had complete control of my thoughts, my emotions, my body and my money.

I never looked into little teary eyes and cried myself. 

I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin.

I never sat up late watching a child sleep, while praying over their future and being thankful to God for today.

Before I was a Mom, I never felt my heart break into a million pieces when I couldn't stop the physical pain or ease the emotional hurt.

I never knew that something so small could affect my life so much.

I never knew that I could love someone so much. I never knew I would love being a Mom.

Before I was a Mom, I didn't know the feeling of having my heart outside my body, or the necessity of having eyes in the back of my head, or the importance of having three hands.

I didn't know how special it would feel to hold and feed a hungry baby, kiss a boo-boo or to offer comfort in the middle of a thunder storm.

I never held a sleeping infant because I did not want to let go.

I never knew the delight of small arms hugging my neck.

I didn't know the bond between a Mother and her child could be so strong.

Before I was a Mom, I did not know anyone so small could make me feel so important and needed.

I had taken for granted the special moments and milestones I had been blessed to witnessed in the lives of others - like first steps and first words - the sound of a tiny voice whispering "Mommy?" for the first time - the discovery of rain and snow - the first taste of a cookie - and so much more.

No, I had never experienced the warmth, joy, heartache, wonderment, commitment, responsibility or the satisfaction that comes from the knowledge and understanding of what it means to be willing to self-sacrifice.

Now, I can appreciate the over-protectiveness of my own Mom, because I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much - before I was a Mom.

Post a Comment