28 Sep 2010, 3:51am
raising children
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    Top of the list is: Handmade Goodness Giveaways Project! Please be sure to ENTER. Just click the link (when there is one) at the top of the most recent post! This project is in an effort to promote local and independent artists. Crafters, photographers, designers (of all types) -- man, woman or child all are welcome. Each giveaway will feature a different artist with a different talent, please join, if you will! Contact me: mommyhobbies [at] gmail [dot] com
  • In my napsack stash

  • Best Friends

    My best friends.  I think I will describe them to you before I do the “reveal”.  They sound much more interesting this way.

    One of my best friends is no taller than my waist.   The other has a collection of dead insects.
    One of my best friends poops, like, three times a day.  The other makes forts for bad guys and super heroes.
    One of my best friends doesn’t speak.  The other insists on wearing Iron Man underwear.
    One of my best friends gives kisses at random intervals.  The other has imaginary friends like “Hoo” and “Goo-ah”.

      Today I was out with my best friends at Subway, our fav place to chill and have a healthy “on-the-go” lunch, when I was approached by one of the employees.  She complimented me on my children and told me I was “such a good mother”.  Didn’t quite know what to say.  Sometimes I’m a little speechless when people offer such opinions of me.  They don’t know me.  But, they do see my children and how they react and interact to and with me, so maybe that’s how they form their idea of who I am and what kind of mother I am to my children.  
    Either way, I just smiled and nodded.  But then I stopped smiling as she told me about her own daughter who refused to raised the child she brought into this world.  How her daughter was raped at fourteen and now, she, Grandma, is raising her almost twelve year old granddaughter “M”.  She lamented at her daughter’s lack of desire to be a mother as she proudly showed me her keychain with a school picture of “M”.  Emotional sandwich today at Subway, that’s for sure.  

    It just brought me back down to earth.  Plucked me right out of my BFF cloud and slapped me in the face.  Not everyone has the same “mother” story.   Everyone is different.  Not everyone wants to be a mom, not everyone chooses to be a mom, some people have bodies that won’t LET them be a mom…and yet, here I am, sitting in Subway, getting sticky kisses and soft whispers, Sunchips on my shoulders, chocolate milk spilled on my side of the table.  And I’m ok with it.  I love it.  Not only that, but my children are my best friends!  They whisper sweet secrets and touch my face tenderly with grubby fingers.  They want to snuggle in bed with me.  They look for me when I’m out of sight.   They seek my approval.
    I am so blessed.  I chose to be a mom.  I chose to set myself aside for the next 18 + years and pour all of what I am into these two, small, innocent beings.  My best friends, at that.  
    Cylas.
    Romalise. 
    The two best friends a mom could ever have.

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