Happiness Tugs at My Skirt

I remember as a child I constantly wondered to myself why there was a Father's Day, and a Mother's Day, but no Kid's Day.  

Then I became a Mother.  And now I know. 

It's because every day is Kid's Day.

But on this one day out of the year when it actually is all about me, I find it really kind of difficult to celebrate.  

I love celebrating my mom, and mother-in-law, and grandmothers, and other significant women in my life, but when it comes to celebrating myself as a mother, I don't know.  

It feels....weird.  

I love being a mom.  I love being a mom more than I love breathing.  But as much as I love it (and I think we've established that I do love it), I still struggle with it constantly.  I make so many mistakes it's embarrassing.  I have to forgive myself over and over again for doing every thing wrong.  I go to bed at night praying that the next day I will do better.  And at the end of the day, I have to convince myself that I have not failed them in every way possible, and I will just have to try again the next day.    

And while I am not a perfect parent (and maybe not even a decent one), I still, undeniably love it.

For example: this week I took the kids to the beach and Cameron ate several handfuls (literally) of sand.  (Side note: He won't eat applesauce, but sand he gobbled like crazy.  Sure.)

(Today Aubrey picked him up and said, "Wooo, Cameron.  I think all that sand you ate made you get fatter.")

And yet, I still love being a mom.

For further example: While driving home from preschool, we spotted a little duck family floating along in a pond near our home.  We strolled over to the ducks and tried to feed the babies some stale bread.  The daddy duck didn't like this.  He hissed at us and even did a little mini-charge at Aubrey.  Our duck feeding adventure ended with us sprinting up a hill, Aubrey chucking the bread at the duck's heads, and me screaming obscenities while abandoning my helpless child to the mercy of the feathered beasts. 

(I'll be writing a parenting book later this year.  So stay tuned for that.)    

 And yet, I still love being a mom. 

In case you need yet another example: Aubrey spent a whole day outside catching butterflies.  She had approximately 15 of them in a little glass jar, which she excitedly brought inside to show me.  While showing me, she lifted the paper off the lid of the jar and - surprise!- 15 frantic butterflies escaped to the pleasure of roaming freely around my house. 

Have I mentioned how I don't do bugs?

(No picture of this - too busy hiding under the girls bunk beds while attempting to go to my own private happy place - but here's a lovely little picture of the nest outside my bedroom window.  Charming, huh?)

 And yet, I still love being a mom.

Further proof: Aubrey wore this outfit.  To preschool.  To the grocery store.  To the library.  To a picnic with friends. 

 And yet, I still love being a mom.

Even more proof: We had a picnic with our good friends at a beautiful new park.  There's a fountain at this park which we lectured the girls repeatedly would not be entered at any time, under any circumstances.  Naturally, within 10 minutes, Brooklyn was drenched head-to-toe.  

And like the loving mother that I am, I gave her the shirt off my back instead of letting her freeze like she rightfully deserved. 

(See the shirt?  Above: on me.  Below: not on me.)  

 And while I froze in my too-tight-and-not-at-all-flattering undershirt, I did get to enjoy this view from behind:

 This night, I really, really loved being a mom.

 One more final example: Since the public pools aren't open quite yet, I took it upon myself to create our own little pool.  I pumped it up, I carried about 26 buckets of water from our kitchen into our backyard to fill it up, I got our beach towels out, got the kids in their swimsuits, lathered them each in sunscreen, made lemon aid, found the lost pair of sunglasses, dug my reclining lounge chair out of the garage, gathered all our best pool toys, blew up a beach ball, and told the kids they could finally get in the pool.  

They did.  

And then millions of microscopic red biting bugs attacked us and 20 seconds later we were all inside.

And yet, I still love being a mom.

I came across this quote today, and I think it is so perfectly put. 

"I have no need for children

for it is happiness I am in search 

and all the while she spoke I smiled 

while happiness tugged at my skirt."

-Author Unknown

I think the moral of this story is that I love being a mom.  

And while other people may be out in their full-blown search for happiness, I smile.  

Because happiness really does tug at my skirt.

I love being a mom.