Waiting Game/Crying Game

Waiting Game

Tomorrow I am officially 38 weeks pregnant. I don't think I could be any more sick of being pregnant than I am right now. Although, I'm sure next week I will be even sicker of it. I am so ready to meet this little person. Ready to make his or her aquaintance and look into what are sure to be beautiful eyes which allow me to see into a beautiful new soul. I can't wait to go home and be a new family, again. To experience all the ups and downs of having a newborn. I even can't wait to press this baby to my chest and nurse him or her. Although, I expect that, as with Dylan, the nursing will be painful for quite some time. I want to count fingers and toes and stare. Stare with awe at the new life. Stare at myself with awe at how my belly which was full of baby just a few moments ago is empty and I am now holding that baby. I remember that so well with D. Looking at him in those first few minutes and looking at myself and wondering how I did that. How he was now breathing and blinking and moving and just minutes prior he was still inside of me. It's mind boggling.

I'm tired of waiting.

Crying Game

Hormones are crazy and at the moment they are in their full raging glory. I have been an emotional basket case lately and have been crying at the drop of a hat. Crying out of sadness, joy, frustration, anger and just plain old impatience.
As I have reread my last post, it has brought tears to my eyes every. single. time. The hormones are to blame, in part. The bigger part is taking a few moments to reflect in my own mommy awesomeness and the impact that has made on my son. He's such a great kid - happy, fun, smart, compassionate, passionate. All the things I hope he holds on to forever. All the things I hope I can keep fostering as I parent another child and all the things I hope I can instill in the baby.

Oh yeah, I'm good

The ever wise-beyond-her-years GGC posted about being a good parent and has encouraged the rest of us to do the same.

I'm a good mom. There, I said it. I don't know why it's so hard for all us to say, but it's true. Dylan is a wonderful kid and Dave and I are his favorite people in the world. There must be a reason for that. There must be a reason for the smiles I get and the unsolicited "Mommy, I love you." and hugs and big sloppy kisses.

There must be a reason the boy wants to snuggle with me every morning. There must be a reason, beyond his biology, for his well-mannered behavior, his politeness, his comfort in his own skin.

I want everything for him. Everything I had and didn't have. Everything I never knew I wanted until I had my own. I want him to have boundaries yet feel confident enough to push them. I want him to have pride yet be humble. I want him to know that no matter what, we are always in his corner. I work hard to do these things for him everyday and that makes me a great mom.

I love the mom I am. I am a fun, silly, get down on the floor and roll around type of mom and I am an authoritative type of mom. Somehow I can flip-flop between the two without confusing or alienating my child. Somehow I have found the balance that keeps my kid fun and goofy and loving yet respectful and disciplined all at the same time.

I'm a great mom because in four years, I have never raised my voice out of anger. I have never struck out in any way shape or form, I have put him first. He knows that if we leave, we come back. That if we say something will happen (be it reward or consequence) it will happen. I believe this makes him confident. Most of all, Dylan is a happy child and knows he is loved to pieces. And that, alone, tells me I'm doing something right.