I birthed him.
I meet his basic needs...
I provide him with shelter, which I happen to think is a great little happy space. I even quickly pick up each day just before I get him from school so that he arrives home to a place that feels good.
I keep our home stocked with good foods, and am getting much better at meal preparation.
I meet his emotional needs...and help him to know how to meet his own emotional needs because it's important and necessary. Oh how I want him to be emotionally intelligent.
I teach and live the gospel of Jesus Christ so that he too will know it, and know what it feels like to live it. My hope is it will always be a part of his life.
I am involved...
I am his Cub Scout den leader.
I have regular contact with his teachers at school, reasons many of them have become good friends of mine.
I know his friends.
I know all of his likes, dislikes, and kind-of-likes.
I know his desires and dreams.
I also know my own desires and dreams for him, and am constantly incorporating (and adjusting as his change), so that he can acknowledge them all (yes, even professional skateboarder) as real possibilities.
I know his fears.
I know the things that rock even the core of him, and do my darnedest to help him make sense of it all.
I am aware of his strengths and his weaknesses, and my responsibility to help both positively progress.
I love the way he feels snuggling close and loving me as he has over the last decade.
I remember the moment the doctor caught him as he entered my world and plopped him on my belly. It was the warmest feeling as he melted into me almost like butter. I was a wee 19 year old, and almost having an out of body experience as my delivery went so quickly, and so many dynamics were affecting my every thought. But I will never forget the reality of that feeling...that moment when his body connected with my own on the outside, and my world, my heart, was changed forever. Today I am happy to celebrate myself as a mother. I am happy to celebrate all mothers, as we each have our own story.
happy mothers day.
I meet his basic needs...
I provide him with shelter, which I happen to think is a great little happy space. I even quickly pick up each day just before I get him from school so that he arrives home to a place that feels good.
I keep our home stocked with good foods, and am getting much better at meal preparation.
I meet his emotional needs...and help him to know how to meet his own emotional needs because it's important and necessary. Oh how I want him to be emotionally intelligent.
I teach and live the gospel of Jesus Christ so that he too will know it, and know what it feels like to live it. My hope is it will always be a part of his life.
I am involved...
I am his Cub Scout den leader.
I have regular contact with his teachers at school, reasons many of them have become good friends of mine.
I know his friends.
I know all of his likes, dislikes, and kind-of-likes.
I know his desires and dreams.
I also know my own desires and dreams for him, and am constantly incorporating (and adjusting as his change), so that he can acknowledge them all (yes, even professional skateboarder) as real possibilities.
I know his fears.
I know the things that rock even the core of him, and do my darnedest to help him make sense of it all.
I am aware of his strengths and his weaknesses, and my responsibility to help both positively progress.
I love the way he feels snuggling close and loving me as he has over the last decade.
I remember the moment the doctor caught him as he entered my world and plopped him on my belly. It was the warmest feeling as he melted into me almost like butter. I was a wee 19 year old, and almost having an out of body experience as my delivery went so quickly, and so many dynamics were affecting my every thought. But I will never forget the reality of that feeling...that moment when his body connected with my own on the outside, and my world, my heart, was changed forever. Today I am happy to celebrate myself as a mother. I am happy to celebrate all mothers, as we each have our own story.
happy mothers day.
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