Mother

When I was pregnant with Luke, I would think about bringing him home to a cute crib, rocking him in a comfy chair, and changing cute little cloth diapers to lessen our contribution to the landfills of the world.  I would read him stories, tell him jokes, sing to him, and even review the day's mail with him.  I thought a lot about how I would want to raise him, how I would mold him into the most awesome little guy ever.

Let's just say, we didn't bring him home and put him in his cute crib.  He slept in his pack-n-play in our room.  The comfy chair was in the next room and I was too tired to walk across the hall to sit in it, so I'd sit in bed and rock back and forth.  The cloth diapers were too big when he came home so we used pampers.  And then some more pampers, and then...well, more pampers.  We still read stories, sing and dance and stack and knock down block after block.  I think we're doing a good job raising him, setting boundaries, and providing a comfortable home.  At least, I think that's what we're doing.

But since the day he was born, I'm a completely different person.  I never once thought about how he would mold me.  I'm more patient, kind, forgiving.  I see the world completely different than before.  I seek out advice on the web about what kids eat.  When should they try this?  When should they be doing that?  And I've come to realize, mothers don't know it all.  And I don't think I want to.

I love my little mister, and I'm so thankful for the joy he brings me, Chris, and everyone he comes in contact with.  He truly is a blessing in my life.