As some of you may have read, I was tagged to do a Mummy Meme, and I tagged River. This lovely lady doesn't have a blog, but is a regular commenter whose wise words and sense of humour we all enjoy.
Here is her response:
I am socially inept, emotionally awkward, not highly educated, excrutiatingly shy; yet somehow I have managed to raise four wonderful children who I love and who love me. Two boys and two girls. So here it is.
5 things I love about being a mum.
5 things I love about being a mum.
1. In the beginning, I loved the peace and quiet of the 2a.m. feeds. No-one awake except me and the baby. Even with babies 2, 3, and 4, the night feeds were a pleasure. The house was dim and warm, baby and me snuggled in a blanket in the rocking chair, gazing at each others faces while he or she drank their fill, tiny fingers and toes curling and stretching with the pleasure of it, the sleepy burps after, tucking the baby back into the bassinet then curling up in my own bed again until the dawn feed.
2. In later, toddler years, I loved teaching them. Colours, shapes, letters, numbers. left from right, right from wrong. The joy on their faces when they "got it". The happy laughter when they mastered a new skill, the sound of small running feet as they came to show off what they'd done. The joy each one took in sharing their accomplishment with siblings. Singing the alphabet song with them. Later still, they'd recite the alphabet backwards to anyone who'd listen.
3. I loved that I had easy-going, happy-go-lucky children who loved each other, (still do) and looked out for each other, (still do). They shared everything, from toys and snacks to chicken pox and german measles. They got on well together when playing as a group, yet respected each others need to sometimes be alone. Although this last one was sometimes a little harder to learn. They also knew from an early age that I needed time for reading and would leave me to it for at least half an hour before asking to bake brownies or play outside with them. I loved that each time we moved house, the new home and school was easily settled in to.
Laughter. Insane giggling at each others corny jokes. A full house more often than not after school or during holidays. I didn't mind as this way I knew where my kids were and what they were up to.
Giving each child a bucket of water and a house painting brush to "paint" the house and fence in hot weather. They painted each other too. Mixing poster paints and letting them paint paper grocery bags which were then cut out (eyes, nose, mouth) and worn as masks.
Watching as the four year old sat his two year old sister on the toy lawn mower and then ran as fast as he could over bumps and pot holes in the yard while she hung on for dear life laughing hysterically.
Enjoying the hilarity as my husband sat on the small two-wheeler bike with kids hanging off him on all sides as he rode around the yard.
Cooking lessons as they got older, making playdough, brownies, Anzac biscuits, lemon meringue and apple pies. Lamingtons, where I'd make the cake and they'd do the chocolate dipping and coconut rolling.
Dressing them in raincoats and boots on rainy days then walking around the block so they could splash in puddles and in the gutters all the way.
Older still, and I allowed them to dress in their oldest rattiest clothes and play down in the old creek after a rain. They'd come home covered in mud and get hosed off in the backyard, drying and dressing in the shed before coming in for hot chocolate.
5. Pride. The biggest of the five. I love the pride I feel when talking about my family.
Pride; when each milestone was succesfully passed. Sometimes earlier than expected.
Pride; when I took them all grocery shopping, out for milkshakes, anywhere really, and they were beautifully behaved, earning me many compliments.
Pride; as each one in turn took to school like a duck to water.
Pride; when #1 was dux of the school in her final primary year.
Pride; when all of them went further through high school than I had. Although two of them came close, none actually finished year 12.
Pride; when, as a teenager, my youngest told me he could never mistreat any woman or child, because I'd raised him with respect. (we'd had friends drop in and the topic had turned to the latest TV show we'd seen on abuse.)
Pride; that all of them have far out-stripped me in learning and achievements.
Pride; that all four are now well-adjusted adults with many friends.
So proud that I now have grandchildren to love as much as I love their parents.