This boy

This boy made me a better Mama.



With the first two, I was so anxious to do things "right." To let them cry enough so as not to spoil them. To get them to go to sleep "on their own." To teach them to be independent early. I read all of the books {multiple times}, followed strict schedules, and tried very hard to make my babies little adults. Instead of following my heart, I followed books written by strangers. (It gave me great joy to burn one specific book when Birdie-girl was about 13 months old...and I was 4 months pregnant with #2!)

The third time around, there are no books to be found in our home with the how-tos of being a good mom. There are no strict schedules where I fret if we are off by 15 minutes. And there is no chance of me making my baby grow up too fast.

I suppose it comes with having more children, but experience is really the best teacher. I don't need a book to tell me what the baby's cries mean - I can listen my with my own ears and decipher. I don't need a book with a formula for how to structure my day. We simply have a routine and go with it. I have come to learn that I can't expect the baby to be tired or hungry at the exact same time every day - because I surely am not! :)

With experience comes confidence, I suppose. I now have the confidence I need to follow my instincts. To follow my heart. When the baby is tired, I rock him. Goodness knows I wish I could go back and rock my older babies more than I did. When my baby wants to be held, I hold him. I now know to be true what everyone told me: Time goes by fast. My two older kiddos are now too big to hold and tote around, and it breaks my heart. They still need me, they still want to cuddle on my bed and read together...but they are now too big to hold against my chest. Too big to cover them with kisses any time I want to.

So this boy, he has made me a better Mama. Not a perfect one - not even close - but a better one. I am relishing in every day with him because I know they will be gone all too soon. I spend more time in the floor playing so that I can hear him laugh and watch him learn. I spend less time worrying about this and that and instead enjoy just being Mama. I spend more time playing with his two big siblings. I spend more time listening to them and being in their company. They don't feel that they missed out on their Mama's love because they can't remember me fretting to do it "right." But I remember.

And this go 'round, with This Boy, I'm turning into the mother I wish I had been all along.