Happy Mother's day

It's mother's day! My 31st mother's day as a child and my 3rd mother's day as a mom. This morning I woke up with my 2 y/o daughter on one side of me patting my head and my 7 week old son on the other side vigorously sucking down breakfast. My husband was still at the hospital (on call last night, joys of being a surgeon's wife...). I decided to make my own celebration breakfast: blueberry pancakes. My daughter cheerfully set the table (She did a pretty good job for 2 yrs old: gave me a knife and fork and herself two spoons, two forks, and one knife. They were arranged neatly at our respective place settings). As we snarfed down yummy pancakes and my son cooed happily in his little infant seat, I reflected back over the last three years of my life as a mother: I've changed approximately 5,000 disposable diapers, washed 400 cloth diapers (OK so I don't own 400 CD's just have washed that many...), given at least 700 baths, been vomited on, peed on, pooped on, slobbered on, "snotted on," and cried on. I've been bitten at least three times (once drew blood). I've hand fed almost 900 meals and cleaned up an equal number. I've taken 9 airline trips (8 with just Amy) which included two nights in an airport (Dallas and Chicago). I've had knee surgery and recovered (and took care of my daughter, kept the house clean, and cooked food for Eric while recovering). I've worked night shifts for "real money" and have pried my eyelids open with toothpicks to stay awake caring for my daughter during the following day. I've completed CME hours while breastfeeding, falling asleep at night, or during "leisure" moments at work. I've been depressed, elated, tired and sick. You might think I'm a hero (and I am tempted to think so myself after just re-reading all I've done). Really, though, I'm just doing my duty--what I'm expected to do as a mom. I freely admit that there are days I really don't want to play blocks with my child (which involves me stacking blocks up endlessly so they can be knocked down again and again), I really don't want to get up and take Amy potty at 12 am, I really don't want to read "Samuel" for the 100th time, and I don't want to sing "Who am I" ever again. Some days I wonder what I was high on when we decided to get pregnant. But there are those moments that off-set all the frustrations: like when daughter runs up to me, throws her arms around my neck and said "I WUV you mommy!" or when my husband can't get our son to stop crying until I come into the room and pick him up. I secretly love it that my daughter insists, "mommy put me night-night." I also have to admit I don't mind it when she crawls into my bed and snuggles up close saying "I NEED my momma." Yes, I have to say that these precious moments make it all worth while.

Breakfast is over, Amy has blueberries all over her hair. Michael is starting to stir and whimper. Pancake mix is still spattered all over the counter. I know my momentary nostalgia is about to be broken by the activities of the day. But for just a moment it was nice to reflect on motherhood and the meaning attached to this day.

Happy Mother's day to all the wonderful mother's in my life!

Love,
Rachel