Monday, January 12, 2015

The Creepy Mom

So last night I sat in my sons room and watched them sleep.  I did, I just sat there and stared at them.  I watched their little chests rise and fall, and I listened to Jack snore.  I thought about this other little guy, the one waiting to come, and then I thought, "Oh man.  Three boys.  What has Cole gotten me into."
(I know it's not Cole's fault; I like to tease him about it anyway.)

Well, this morning my mom sent me a message asking me how I was doing.  I said I felt fat.  Between the physical limitations with this pregnancy, and the holidays, I do, I feel fat.  She responded, "You're not fat!  You're pregnant!  Enjoy it since this is your last time."  Oh.  I'm enjoying it.  Hence why I feel fat.  I didn't say I WAS fat, though the weight gain is clearly obvious (as is the belly).  I simply said I FELT that way.

Back to last night.  Last night while I was staring at my boys sleeping I thought, "This is endearing.  And creepy.  I'm kind of a creepy mom."  I'm not creepy in a hauntingly, terrifying, or spooky sense.  Although, I am sure had my sons woken up while I was watching them they may have argued otherwise.  I, for one, have a mild panic attack when I wake up to find a face staring at me in the middle of the night.
It's a harmless face, usually.
One that says something like, "Mom, I need a drink."
Or "Mom, James threw up in the bed."
No, I'm more of a "let me see how uncomfortable I can make you right now" creepy.

I make them clean their rooms.  Soooo creepy.  I make them help with chores.  They are 5 and 2.  It's rude; I'm a jerk.  I also make them clean up their pee when they miss the toilet.  I am in charge of their waste when it is in a diaper, not after.  Balance of power, you see.  They get agitated about it, but who's the boss?  Creepy mom.
Creepy mom makes them eat what's for dinner; eat it or go to bed.  Creepy mom gives them hardly any candy.  Don't go all progressive parent on me, they get goodies, I'm not the devil.
(C'mon, I'm the bakery queen.  They get treats, trust me.)
We play outside, we don't play video games all the time.  I play with them, but I also make them use their imagination.
Creepy mom needs to do her own creepy things sometimes.

Why do I do these things?  Well, back to the pregnancy deal.  I feel like it.  I am a big follower of how I feel.  I think about it, research it if I can, I "mull it over," then I let my heart lead.  And if I don't know how I feel about something?  That's when meditation or a lot of "oh $#!& that wasn't the best option" moments come into play.

With my kids?  I follow my heart, and my gut, and my head.  I follow this intrinsic path because no one knows my kids like I know them.  They hold half of me, and I know myself relatively well.  Therefore?  I know at least half of them.
God made it that way.
Google can't decide what's best for a child it doesn't know.
Momma knows best.  Period.
Sometimes I think we forget that.  Sometimes I think we forget how gifted we really are, especially when it comes to the life we've been given.  For me?  It's motherhood.  If I really take the time to actually TAKE the time and try what I think is best, it's usually what's right.
My heart doesn't lie to me.
I just need to stop being too afraid to follow it.

As for my kids?  Well, with their learning curves and tantrums, their growing pains, their aha moments, and any owie, sickness or heartache they might experience, I will be there.
I may not always know what's best, but I will always know what to do if I am quiet enough to listen.

I'm supposed to give them what they need to be the best they can be, but I can't make them into something they're not.  I myself am constantly growing, and so will they.
So I'm a creepy mom.
One day?
One day I hope my boys will be creepy dads.
But if they're not I know they will do exactly what they were meant to do.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.

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