Saturday, September 11, 2010


On any given day, I have half a dozen teenagers wander through my home or yard, waiting on one of my boys, taking food out of my cupboards and fridge, grabbing a hug and sometimes a kiss from the parental unit they all call mom… that would be me. J Some of them have known me for 10 years or better and others just met me this month, but they all gravitate here and I love it. If you were to tell any one of them that I used to be a frustrated, overwhelmed, could barely smile at the kids who passed through my home-mom, (because they were interrupting the schedule I had so carefully crafted for my children to be “well rounded happy individuals”) they would probably laugh in your face. Cristin? Mom? No way! Hewy and Devin may remember whispers of that woman, but probably not because they didn’t spend much time here the. The mom they all know today is who I really am- just me-pouring out at the seams, ready and willing to accept all who enter with a smile and a cookie if they are lucky! I like her much better than the old me- trying to filter through everything and still smile at the person standing in front her. I used to have to struggle for the energy to smile at my own kids and show them the love they deserved, let alone welcome somebody else’s kid in my home. Thankfully not anymore!

I know my big boys remember that woman. They loved her because she was their mom. Nic talks often about the struggles growing up in this house with the cloud of tension constantly threatening to rain on his picnic. The woman I am today is the mom they choose to love because they want to and it comes naturally. This space is much happier for everyone who enters.

I have had the benefit of having my kids, close friends and family here the past couple years… while I was breaking the hard shell off of the exterior and allowing my true self, the room to BE. Because they have been here every step of the way and watched the process happen, I think it has been easier for them to grasp and to forgive the ugliness in the woman they have always called mom. I hope that as the years go by, they will learn to forget as well. Because really, what is the point of remembering things that don’t make you feel good inside, right?

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thank you for adding to my flow...