I just realized that it has been 5 months since I wrote a blog post. It's not that there hasn't been anything to write about, but more that there hasn't been the uninterrupted time to do so, and then by the time that I can sit down and start typing, the fully composed blog-post that I had in my head the night before is completely gone. There have been quite a few of those lately.
Last Sunday was Mother's Day. It was my first Mother's Day, unless you count the year before when I was pregnant... some people do, some people don't. I treated myself to a few hours out of the house alone for Mother's Day. Andrew stayed home with Daddy, and I went and got a pedicure with my mom, and then went and got a few supplies for home and then it was back home where I was hoping to go out to dinner. I was hoping that my husband was feeling well enough to go out, our little carrier monkey had brought down the entire house with his cold... seriously, even Lucie had been sneezing and sleeping more than usual. Just when I thought that we'd actually make it out the door, I went to change Andrew and realized he was warm, I checked and sure enough he had a fever. So my first Mother's Day evening was spent being a Mommy. Taking care of my under the weather baby boy, and making dinner. And I wouldn't have traded it for anything.
I waited for so many years to become a mommy. I started to think it was not meant to happen for me. As a result, I take joy in motherhood. Not just the Hallmark moments when my son is freshly bathed and smelling sweet, and snuggled up to me nursing contentedly, but all the moments. Like when I try to take his temperature and he poops on me. Or when he seems to grow 6 more arms and is doing his best to grab every remote control and power cord in the room. Or when I want desperately to just go to bed and sleep, and he decides that 3:47 am is the PERFECT time to be wide awake and he just had to share that moment with me. Let's face it, how often do those Hallmark moments really happen? Especially since in our house bath time only comes around about once a week. The pooping on me thing happens far more often than the sweet smelling snuggling time happens.
No matter how frustrated I may become, or how fussy he can get, there is not a day that goes by that I don't look at him and thank God for allowing me to be his mommy, for sending that precious baby boy into my life. Almost every night I fall asleep praying, thanking God for my family. For bringing my husband safely home that night, for my beautiful son, for our home, for our goofy (and bed-hogging) pup... It really helps my attitude and my outlook on life to remember how richly blessed I am when instead I want to focus on petty little things, and things or people that make me angry, or bug me. Some days my attitude is so terrible, and then I see Andrew's smile and it puts my whole world right again.