Tuesday, April 21, 2009

5 Things I Love About Being A Mom

Mary Whitsell, a kindred spirit in parenting, tagged me to write about five things I love about being a mom. Now, if I had sat down last night around 10:20, after the kids let the dog out, and the dog ran down to the house where the odd family (and we understand odd, so when we say odd, you can only imagine) lives, this would have been an entirely different post.

Of course, we were having a thunderstorm and of course the odd family keeps several donkeys on their property (you were warned), and our dog, a hefty German shepherd with unresolved anger issues, wants to get into their hen house - the one next to the donkey barn - and eat one of the hens.

My boys were engaged in some useful activity such as this:

and my husband was in the middle of fixing son #1's printer for a paper he had all of spring break to write (so he began it at 9 last night) so I had to run down to the stinky, muddy "yard" holding Milkbones and old pieces of Easter ham to coax our wet dog back into the house while the donkeys kicked at their stalls and brayed at the thunder.

So it's good I'm writing this now. Kids are cute for a reason. I happen to think she is very cute:

Even though I used to roll my eyes (well, mentally) when coworkers showed me pictures of their kids and told me how cute they were.

Karma smirks again.

Okay, five things.

Here's number one: I no longer have inhibitions. I used to dread being called on in college classes, even though I'm a big talker. I just didn't like public stuff. After my first son was born, I developed the capacity to sing, yes sing, the theme song from Barney in the middle of supermarkets, at the pediatrician's office, on public transportation in NYC. And it didn't have to be Barney: I also included a few Raffi medleys and I could hum the theme song to the Power Rangers. Anywhere, any time, at any volume, I would sing because he liked it. (Times have changed)

I won't even discuss where I breastfed.

Number Two: they have taught me patience. Seriously. I used to be one of those foot tapping, hurry up people until I had a baby. Babies never hurry. They teach you to slow down. I used to write poems and flash fiction because they matched my speed of thinking. I don't think I would ever have been able to write novels unless I had been slowed down by kids and their complete lack of regard for time. It's a great thing to relearn, and it's best relearned by spending half an hour talking about the shape of a puddle.

Number Three: I know that I can do more than I thought. I always envisioned the middle part of my life as this orderly fertilize the lawn and read the paper weekend kind of place, but it's more like running a circus. Not a three ring one, just an ample circus with aerial acts and animals. I take on things I don't think I would have even imagined because after having three kids in six years, most things seem easier.

Number Four: I can take scrutiny. If I say there were seven pretzels and there were eight, or vice versa, I am called on it. If I wear weird pants or a sweater with a hole in it, I am told. I am also told if I have wrinkles, flab or schmoogus on my chin. Very little bothers me now, and there was a time when I ironed my jeans (and my pillowcases -- I haven't been able to find the iron since we moved here over two years ago, and no one is looking for it)

Number Five: the corny one, but I never knew I could love people this way. I remember this friend of mine calling me when I was pregnant. She said she would never have kids (and she's 51 now and still childless) because you fall out of love with your husband and in love with your kids.

I thought she was batty. I don't agree with this totally, but I do understand what she meant. It's not that you fall out of love with your spouse; it's just that everything in your life takes second place to your kids, at least while they are little.

Or maybe that's just that way it is for me. I actually miss them when they are at school (but don't tell them). I'll probably change my mind about this by mid-July.

But thanks for that, Mary! I doubt I would have ever sat down and thought about this without your prompt.


Anne Spollen said...

Sorry, the comment thingy didn't work. I think it does now.

Christy Raedeke said...

I could just read your writing all day long, no matter what the subject. Especially love the massive German Shepherd with anger issues and a taste for hens.

adrienne said...

LOL! So just to be sure, chasing down dogs with Milkbones and ham is not a high point?
Awesome post.

Anne Spollen said...

I think I love you, Christy.

And Adrienne, when I'm in the home, and I keep asking for a meal of Milkbones and funky ham, will you come and remind them about this?

Mary Witzl said...

I'm with Christy: I LOVE your writing. I could read about your odd neighbors and their hens and donkeys (jinx: we have donkey neighbors too!), and your German shepherd, and whatever-the-hell else you wanted to write about all day. Especially since the floors need to be mopped here, but I'd want to read your writing even if the floors were spotless. Which I promise they never are.

My kids call me on stuff all the time too. And yet I also miss them when they're at school. Good thing we didn't know all this stuff before we went and procreated.

Katie said...

Thanks Anne! Just like you are thankful to Mary for making you sit down and think, I am thankful to have read your five - so I can slow down and think about it too!


Anne Spollen said...

Hah, Mary, never tell them we miss them. And thanks for the writing compliment! Great idea you had for us moms -- good reminder.

Yeah, Katie,
we need to remember these things about our kids. We probably don't do it often enough.

Bish Denham said...

Gosh! I've found a new blog to follow! And thanks for stopping by mine. As for mothers and motherhood...can't live 'em, can't live without 'em. :O

Mary Witzl said...

I've come back to reread this. And I may have enjoyed it even more the second time around, which is saying a lot.

Anne Spollen said...

Heh, Bish, the same could be said for kids. I LOVE babies, but the dark side of babies is that nature has a way of making you forget that they don't STAY tbat way too long. Then they grow up and smell like gym socks...

Gosh, Mary, thanks. If this keeps up, I am going to turn into a literary diva. (Actually, that's something of a goal)