Thursday, February 27, 2014

Bad Mom vs. Good Mom

Throughout this pregnancy there have been many times I've felt like being pregnant has made me a bad mom.  What I mean by that is, when the exhaustion takes over simply from growing another human being my patience is zilch and therefore I would get short with Grant.  I hate that and I always regret it later. 

Or when the morning sickness was at it's worst and he was having a needy day I would get irritable a lot faster.  Once again, I always kicked myself later and tried to love on him more, always apologizing for my shortcomings.  Of course his response was always, "it's okay mama, don't be sad".  Which is enough to make your heart melt a million times over.  Kids are so forgiving. 

Last night I felt like a good mom, and it was all because my belly is too big.  I started letting Grant unload the dryer for me so I wouldn't have to either get down on my knees and dig them out or bend over to dig them out.  He has loved helping with this and you can see how proud he is of himself.  Usually after he unloads it into a basket I set it aside until naptime or after he goes to sleep.  That's when I fold everything and put it away.  It's a habit from when he was little and would constantly unfold  everything or knock my stacks of laundry over.  A few months back I taught him how to fold wash cloths, he was so excited, but because I am a creature of habit I still would save the laundry for when I was by myself and could get it done quickly.

Isn't that what most stay at home mom's do?  You get so caught up in the day to day chores and finding ways to get them done as quickly and efficiently as possible you forget you have a little one who is craving to learn new things.  So last night I decided to go ahead and start folding the towels and let him help me.  He takes his time and sure I could get it done twice as fast but did I really have anything else I needed to rush to get done? No. 

So I let him take his time, and it was so thrilling to see the pride on his face as he folded each one and made his 2 piles, one of wash cloths and one of rags.  He was a little perfectionist, which I've never seen in him before.

It hit me while I was watching him that this could be one of the last times he is my only little one in the house, that he is my sole focus during the evenings and I should be taking advantage of every moment to teach him things and give him extra attention before my focus has to shift between him and his new sibling.

Kids are amazing, and watching them learn new things and gain confidence in their abilities is something I don't think we think about much.  There are so many times when life gets in the way and I'm trying to rush through things not letting him help me because I just want to get the task done and move on to the next one.  Watching him made me realize I truly need to stop rushing and start paying more attention.  Is the world going to end if the dishwasher doesn't get unloaded first thing in the morning? No

Is the fate of mankind going to be affected if vacuuming takes me an extra 20 minutes? No.

Does it really matter if my usual tasks take longer by letting my little guy help? No.

Those tasks will be there later and there is always tomorrow, and if by chance someone stops by and my floor is covered in crumbs or the sink is full of dirty dishes, or the table hasn't been wiped down yet, do I really care what they think? No. 

Seeing the pride Grant has in doing things himself, and hearing him say "thanks, mommy for letting me help", makes all the extra time tasks may take completely and totally worth it.

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