Not Mom of the Year
I've written before about the fact that I don't like me very much. I couldn't explain that if I had to. And those of you who share the same lack of affection for yourself, can certainly understand the mystery of it.
Intellectually and spiritually, I know that God loves me. He created me. I am special to Him.
I get that. What I don't get is why I don't feel that way about myself. I do know that there are things that I do well. I can cook good enough. The Mighty Hunter doesn't complain too much. I am decent at working on a computer, considering I'm completely self-taught. I can get most stains out of our clothes. I'm of at least average intelligence.
Yet even being able to admit these things about myself doesn't boost my self-esteem enough to the point where I like me.
But one thing about myself that I'm good at does make me like myself, if only just a leetle.
I'm a really good mom to Stinkerbell and Lucky. And I can admit that.
My babies have qualities for which I cannot take credit. They are dad-gummed beautiful. They are healthy. I completely know that the Good Lord is responsible for those things.
Lucky is a very easy baby. Cholic hasn't bothered him much - yet. He sleeps easily and for several hours straight occasionally. To talk about what a good mom I am to Lucky, I'd have to create some crazy stories about how, at 3 months, he is already reciting Shakespeare or riding a bicycle.
Stinkerbell is a very sweet girl. She is affectionate and intelligent. She tries her best in all that she does. She makes friends easily. She loves others. She has a charitable streak a mile wide. Her best friend is me. She loves Jesus. She knows right from wrong. She is a good student. She's a picky eater but will try new foods when properly coerced and bribed. She's adventurous, loves animals, climbing trees and doesn't realize the training wheels on her bike are raised up so high they don't touch the ground.
To all these things, I've been a contributor. Not the only one, but the primary one.
(I have to say that The Mighty Hunter is a good dad. A really good dad. He is attentive and affectionate. He adores his babies, and they know it. And, without him, I wouldn't be able to be the good mom that I am.)
I'm pretty patient. I discipline her firmly, when necessary. I know how to bush her buttons and how to get her to respond. I always reassure her with hugs, kisses and abundant love when I have to punish her. I know what's in her beautiful, little head by looking at her beautiful, big eyes. I know what's in her heart by listening to her sweet voice. I know when she doesn't feel well by looking at the color of her skin and can see fever in her eyes. I know what medicines to give and when she's faking that scratchy cough for attention. I know when she needs a nap just by watching her run frantically and melt-down emotionally. I know how to motivate her and encourage her. I hold her to a standard she is capable of attaining and push her to grow and achieve more. I know how much of the complicated, crappy things in life to explain to her. And she trusts me when I tell her that something is a "big person thing," and I'll explain it later when she's old enough to understand. I'm honest with her. She's honest with me, and when she lies, I know.
I know her. And I know her because I am a good mom.
I lose my patience. I yell. I make her cry. I spank. I take away privileges. I put her in Time Out.
But I've taught her about rules and appropriate behavior (often by my own bad example). I've apologized and admitted my own sinful nature. I've taught her about mercy and grace and forgiveness. I've asked her to forgive me many, many times.
She loves me. I love her. It's that simple. At least in my house.
So, I'm giving myself the "Mom of the Year" award. I deserve it.
Intellectually and spiritually, I know that God loves me. He created me. I am special to Him.
I get that. What I don't get is why I don't feel that way about myself. I do know that there are things that I do well. I can cook good enough. The Mighty Hunter doesn't complain too much. I am decent at working on a computer, considering I'm completely self-taught. I can get most stains out of our clothes. I'm of at least average intelligence.
Yet even being able to admit these things about myself doesn't boost my self-esteem enough to the point where I like me.
But one thing about myself that I'm good at does make me like myself, if only just a leetle.
I'm a really good mom to Stinkerbell and Lucky. And I can admit that.
My babies have qualities for which I cannot take credit. They are dad-gummed beautiful. They are healthy. I completely know that the Good Lord is responsible for those things.
Lucky is a very easy baby. Cholic hasn't bothered him much - yet. He sleeps easily and for several hours straight occasionally. To talk about what a good mom I am to Lucky, I'd have to create some crazy stories about how, at 3 months, he is already reciting Shakespeare or riding a bicycle.
Stinkerbell is a very sweet girl. She is affectionate and intelligent. She tries her best in all that she does. She makes friends easily. She loves others. She has a charitable streak a mile wide. Her best friend is me. She loves Jesus. She knows right from wrong. She is a good student. She's a picky eater but will try new foods when properly coerced and bribed. She's adventurous, loves animals, climbing trees and doesn't realize the training wheels on her bike are raised up so high they don't touch the ground.
To all these things, I've been a contributor. Not the only one, but the primary one.
(I have to say that The Mighty Hunter is a good dad. A really good dad. He is attentive and affectionate. He adores his babies, and they know it. And, without him, I wouldn't be able to be the good mom that I am.)
I'm pretty patient. I discipline her firmly, when necessary. I know how to bush her buttons and how to get her to respond. I always reassure her with hugs, kisses and abundant love when I have to punish her. I know what's in her beautiful, little head by looking at her beautiful, big eyes. I know what's in her heart by listening to her sweet voice. I know when she doesn't feel well by looking at the color of her skin and can see fever in her eyes. I know what medicines to give and when she's faking that scratchy cough for attention. I know when she needs a nap just by watching her run frantically and melt-down emotionally. I know how to motivate her and encourage her. I hold her to a standard she is capable of attaining and push her to grow and achieve more. I know how much of the complicated, crappy things in life to explain to her. And she trusts me when I tell her that something is a "big person thing," and I'll explain it later when she's old enough to understand. I'm honest with her. She's honest with me, and when she lies, I know.
I know her. And I know her because I am a good mom.
I lose my patience. I yell. I make her cry. I spank. I take away privileges. I put her in Time Out.
But I've taught her about rules and appropriate behavior (often by my own bad example). I've apologized and admitted my own sinful nature. I've taught her about mercy and grace and forgiveness. I've asked her to forgive me many, many times.
She loves me. I love her. It's that simple. At least in my house.
So, I'm giving myself the "Mom of the Year" award. I deserve it.
And if any of my readers want to award themself also, totally grab the image above and use it. And, since I'm all about getting more readers, link back to me, please. If you write your own post, leave a comment with the link, I'd love to read it.
And... This was all started by Girl's Gone Child.
3 comments:
Sometimes you have to use the evidence put before you and draw the natural conclusion - you are a good person, and you deserve to love yourself. So even if you don't feel it, know that you have earned it, and wake up every day saying it to yourself. Sometimes that's all it takes. You have to life affirmatively and always think positively - if you continue to say out loud that you don't, you are doing yourself a disservice. Your kids are lucky to have you, but they deserve a mother who loves herself.
Great post!
Congratulations on your award :)!
Way to go! We can be our own worst critic or our own best friend and encourager.
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