This is the 9th day of a very difficult hospitalization and surgery for my newest son, Ronnie. I have been spending every waking moment at the hospital, and fortunately, the end is in sight. I believe Ronnie may be able to come home tomorrow.
I hope you don’t mind that I pulled a post out of my archives for you today. Believe me, the sentiments expressed in that archived post are just as strong today as they were back then…
I love my job. Not the one that pays the bills but the one that pays my soul. I love being a mother.
I love the sweet smiles that Ashley gives me each morning when I wake her. I love the look of pride on Corey’s face when he dons his JROTC uniform. I love how Jessica’s eyes light up whenever she says the word “boyfriend”. I love that Chip usually follows my advice although he rolls his eyes when I offer it. I love that Ronnie is calling me ‘Mom’ even though he has only been in our family for 4 short months.
I love doing things to make my children’s lives special – the secret notes left in their lunch or in a dresser drawer – the junk food only meals I plan occasionally – the clean house that they are proud to bring their friends to – the special signs and sayings for each that let them know that individually I value and love them.
I’m proud of the people they are becoming. They know how to do their laundry – they know which fork to use – they know how to cast a fishing line and clean the fish they catch – they know how to grow their own food and how to cook it. They are very mannerly and compassionate. They all understand that diversity is a wondrous thing and they appreciate the abilities of every person.
I love remembering when Chip, now almost 20 years old, told me while sitting in an Arby’s restaurant at age 3 and discovering that boys and girls were different, that he was sad I didn’t have a penis like him. He said loudly enough for the retired couple sitting next to us, “I’m going to get you a penis, a big penis.” And I love that now our conversations are about careers and movies and dreams.
I love sharing stories about distant or deceased family members so my children can feel that they are a part of a whole. I love discussing the difficult subjects of life and I love that they listen to me.
I’m proud that I know how to change a g-tube, give an injection, know what foods are allowed on a low phosphorous/low sodium diet and know the names of seven different seizure medications. I’m proud that I know what to do in the event of an asthma attack and the appropriate professional to contact when my child was exploring sexual matters in an unhealthy way. I’m proud of the advocate I have become for my children, knowing the right lawyers and the right organizations to help us.
Being a mom has never been an easy job, but it certainly been rewarding. Reflecting on my life for the past 19 years, I realize I have been very blessed – not just because I have five great kids, but because of the person they have helped me become. I like myself and I love them more than life itself.
And in case my boss is reading this, I love my paying job also 🙂