Greatest Of All Time.
Longest human connection
I have is with my Mother
She is my angel on earth
An unbreakable bond
We share & have had since
The first moment of my life
Her wonderful singing voice
Ever calms my spirit and
Mom’s hugs are the best
Read to me bed time stories
To my little sister ’nd I
Took such great care of us
My role model
Parent, Guardian, best friend
Nurse, Doctor-& much mor’
A father’s view of motherhood
My child cries in the night. Nine out of ten times I can calm her. Nine out of ten times I can get her back down for the night. The one in ten times is another story entirely.
If you've ever been amidst a terrible storm, holding tight to the ground for fear of being swept away, then you understand the force of my daughter's cries and the helplessness I feel when she does. She shrieks in my ear. Tears roll down her cheeks. I hold her tight. I sing to her. I rock her. I walk her. I tell that everything will be alright, that this too shall pass. And still the cries like her world has shattered.
In swoops momma and scoops her daughter from my arms. That gentle touch is all it takes. The storm calms, the world is remade. I swear she falls asleep before her head is against her mother's chest.
I stand there, pride wounded, wondering what sort of sorcery she used, for surely it must be that. I am just a man, how can I possibly comprehend the bond between a woman and her child?
The Ten Momandments Unveiled!
1. Mother knows best.
No, she does not.
2. A child is better off with their mother.
Not inherently true.
3. No one loves a child like their mother.
Maybe, but that doesn't mean a mother loves the child the "best".
4. A mother wants what is best for her children.
And also what is best for herself, her reputation, her own values and viewpoints.
5. When you become a mom you just know what to do.
No you don't, please take some classes and ask for help.
6. Being a mom is an incredibly underrated, underappreciated job.
Maybe if you don't have nannies and birth control.
7. It would be easier being a mom if dad would help out more.
And grandparents. And friends. And neighbors. And senators. It takes a village.
8. You'll thank your mom for this one day.
9. Your mom hopes you have a child just like yourself and suffer the way she has suffered.
Yes, you already know this. Jokes on her because you're getting sterilized!
10. Being a mom is the best job in the world.
So is being a single, childless CEO cowgirl astronaut pinup spy.
Being a mother is a choice. Being a mother is a privilege. I never thought I would have a child until he happened, he was not planned but I love him just the same. My son is a chance to make things right with myself. To teach him how to be a kind loving person and to treat others with respect and dignity. He has done that and continues to prove to me that I am raising him the right way. Every little thing I do is for my son. Every breathe I take is for him. I live for him. My son is the future.
In my younger years I wasn't sure and I wasn't worried. 'Maybe someday, maybe not,' I thought. Either option made me anxious, but the thought of having to choose scared me the most. Now that I'm in my 30s and this unknown illness doesn't seem to be going away, I try to avoid thinking about it.
Can I get pregnant? If I do can I carry a baby to full term? Would either of us be healthy enough to survive childbirth, and if so what kind of life would my baby be left with? Her health could be so much worse than mine if this illness is what they think it might be.
I want to cry when I have to think about it. Whenever I see or hear something that reminds me I may never get the chance to be a mother, I want to break down. We used to talk about adopting, but that was when I could still go for a run. That seems like a different lifetime. Now that any and all movement threatens to steal my breath and I can barely walk on a good day without having an attack, I don't know how I could care for a child. I can't even care for myself.
He's not doing well either. He's struggling through every day. Anxiety, depression, and thoughts of suicide threaten to end him. It's hard to watch. I try my best to take care of him, but honestly I need someone to take care of me. We love each other. We do our best, but in the constant struggle I can't imagine where we could possibly fit a child.
Then there's the question I dread the most. It shouldn't be acceptable to ask, and yet every woman hears it so often. "When are you going to start a family?" That and thoughtless comments like, "clocks ticking." Why are things like this considered ok? It's such a personal and sensitive topic with so many variables. Why is ok to turn my vulnerability into small talk? Close friends might be one thing, but extended family, acquaintances, total strangers? I can't be the only one who finds this invasive and unacceptable.
What motherhood means to me is heartache. It's a deep sad longing about what might have been, and likely will never be. It's the loneliness that threatens my future and the bitterness of knowing that the thing I wanted the most out of life, a chance at a happy family, is out of my reach.
Being mother to squabbling siblings.
Sometimes there's so much shit involved,
Their incidents just go unsolved.
You're about to growl at 'em; tell 'em off good,
But you stop yourself just as you knew that you would...
'Cause you catch that absurdly unique little smile,
And you're reminded... that somehow it's all still worth while.
A lot of messy
And a little hairy
Some times are
Light and airy
And other times
It’s loud canaries
Early mornings and
Goodnight Hail Marys
You’ll get some tears
But they’ll vary
Some are shared
With stress and sherry
Others come with
Joy and merry
There are struggles
Fights and tearing
But also laughter
Love and caring
It is not
To your kids
They depend on
And you’re paid
With their hugs
And wet raspberries
You’ll pay bills
Like a secretary
Do the shopping
Buy so much dairy
Call the doctors
And coach Larry
Like a culinary
You’ll be a teacher
And the apothecary
But motherhood is
So much sweetness
You’ll share cuddles
Under blankets buried
With kisses on top
Like candy cherries
Tickle time is
A Mother’s Resolve
Little one, I hear your breath,
See you shudder as you rest—
Your translucent eyelids closed,
Your delicate mouth a tiny 'o'
Little do you know…
I will spend my very life,
Make every needed sacrifice,
I will uphold your dignity,
Whatever the cost may be to me,
I will feed you with my own food,
Hold you till your fear's subdued,
Clothe you with my own clothes
Heal your hurts and hear your woes,
I will make you feel that you are loved
When others say you aren't enough,
I will listen to you when you speak
Remind you to choose words lovingly,
Hold you to a higher standard,
Hug you when you're feeling battered,
Offer you a cup of tea,
Watch a movie with you, or three,
Scold you when you are wrong,
Sing with you your favorite song,
All this and more I'd do for you,
and each one of your siblings too.
And as you all grow and learn to live,
One more thing to you I'll give:
I will teach you how to love all others,
Especially the ones who have no mothers.
I didn't know love until I heard my son's first cry,
there in the hospital room.
That cry held infinity within it.
That cry made worlds move.
That cry grabbed my heart and squeezed
until all I could do was sob with joy.
when I help him in my arms the first time.
Oh, his skin was angel soft
Not yet marred by the worlds cruelties.
Suddenly, as I thought of the great, big world
outside the hospitals walls,
the cold hands of fear grabbed hold
of my heart.
How was I gonna save him from the shadows of
How could I keep him from all the pain of life?
I knew it would be impossible.
But from the moment I heard his first baby cry
I knew I had to try.