What I Love About Being A Mom

This was a prompt from Mamakat's workshop for last week.   I just hate having a bunch of drafts open, mostly because they speak to my inner procrastinator, and I am trying to ignore that part of my personality in hopes that it will go away.  

I often commiserate with other mothers about the trials and tribulations of being a mom.  All mothers, no matter where they are from, have things in common that join them together as a group.  I certainly have been surprised at the commonalities among our complaints, from temper tantrums to potty training.  It takes courage to be a mom.  It takes dedication.  It takes sacrifice.  Most of all, it takes a strong stomach. 

There are things that I love about being a mom, however.   Ever since I was an itty-bitty, I knew that I wanted to be a mom, and now that I am one, I wouldn't trade it for anything, not even for the things that require a hazmat suit.   Some of the things that I love about being a mom:

Holding my boy while he sleeps.  I would have held my son all day when he was a baby.  Especially after a bath, when his hair had that baby smell.  Even now, when I put him to bed, I have to hold him for a little bit.  And I love it when he crawls up into my lap and falls asleep. 

Watching him explore.  I love taking Zane out to the park and hunting for spider webs and other insects.  I love showing him caterpillars, even if they are demolishing my dill plants.  If a snake ever enters our yard, and the cats allow it to live, and it's not poisonous, I hope that I get to show that to him too.  I love watching the fascination in his eyes, his curiosity.  

His 'joie de vivre'.  When Zane runs up to me to show me something that he made at daycare, I love that look on his face.  That spark of joy.  My son seems to greet each day with wonder. I love that. I would like to be able to do that, too.  And I would, if I were independently wealthy, didn't have to work, and had housekeepers to keep my house clean.  Being an adult can be exceptional drudgery, but when Zane is running at full tilt and he's laughing his head off, that makes me think about what is really important.

His 'I love yous'.  No matter how bad a mood I am in, no matter what the boy has done, when he says "I love you, Mama",  inside I melt a little.  Do you know how hard it is to keep a firm, discipline-type facial expression when you really want to just hug the bejeebers out of the child?  It's pretty darn difficult, and I am not always successful.  I love that, too.