What makes a good mom?

So, this weekend was a bit of an eye opener for us. I was getting the picture that Joe was really understanding much more than he was letting on (manipulative little devil)... and that the only one who was NOT getting it... well... was me.

This weekend we had to take a big step into the arena of discipline. I hate it. I do not like it Sam I am. We had ventured into this arena before... kind of like sticking your big toe into the cold cold water of the lake only to turn around and say... nope... I kind of like it on the shore. But this weekend... well... this weekend we continued to hit out of frustration and to take a chomp out of me (he has done this before but now he knows what he is doing)... and he doesn't like to share.

I think we have arrived. We have arrived into that stage that you read about and hope that you don't have to experience. Terrible Two's!

We jokingly say that he is one temper tantrum away from being an only child. Except that yesterday... yesterday it might have been true. Jason picked him up from daycare and brought him home. They did great together until I got home. What IS it about mom that means that all bets are off? I am quite sure that he spent more time IN time out last night than out of it. He got his little bottom popped (through a diaper how much pain can be felt?) twice and finally I held his arms tightly across his middle to work at allaying the temper tantrum. eegads!

Then... the little devil er... I mean angel fell asleep. His little breath went into that sweet little "puh" and his little eyes twitch with the dreams that grace his slumber. His horns retract and the halo once again becomes apparent. He reaches over in his sleep (we cosleep most of the time) and he tangles his little fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck and this is how he sleeps. He might roll over with his little butt in the air. But always... always... he knows that I am there.

I had a conversation the other day about motherhood. And how your view of motherhood changes over time. When I was dreaming of being a mommy, holding every baby (awake or asleep) in my arms... I invisioned the kind of mom I would be. Then, when I was fat (as my husband says I was) and pregnant, I had all of these ideals of things I was and wasn't going to do. What things would make me a good parent and which things meant that I immediately went to the "bad parent" section when splitting people up into groups. HA! THEN... I became a mother.

Motherhood to me now means something totally different... something totally MORE and something totally UNglamorous!

++ picking boogers out of his nose because he can't do it. And if he could... well... he would most certainly eat it.
++ the knotted tangled mess of the hair at the nape of my neck, once we all awaken, from his fat little fingers twirling it around. :) (so worth it, by the way).
++ pulling open his diaper to see if there is a "sprise" in there or worse yet... when you can't see, sticking your finger down there to *see*.
++ the wonderful aroma of your baby fresh out of the bath
++ the not so wonderful aroma of your baby fresh out of the mud.
++ the screaming tantrums when you tell them no.
++ the cuddles when you are the ONLY one who can fix it.
++ knowing that they are hurting and NOT being able to fix it.
++ seeing that smile on their face when you KNOW they are about to do something devious.
++ seeing the crocodile tears on their face when you have to enforce the limits from that devious decision.

gosh, the list just goes on and on and on and on.
We have so much power as a mom. We are shaping and molding their little lives. Do you think if we really thought about it... understood the gravity of it... that we would continue to do it or do it all again?

In a heart beat!