A Lesson Learned

Would you let your child walk out of the house and go to school wearing decidedly NON-matching items? Would you try to spare them the inevitable snickering from peers?

Today Princess #1 and I had this argument regarding a rather garish pair of red socks adorned with pink and purple hearts. Normally wearing them wouldn't be an issue, if they were going to be hidden behind jeans and bulky tennis shoes. But Princess #1 was wanting to wear them with pink capri pants and an aqua shirt decorated with pastel butterflies. I pulled out a pair of plain white socks for her to wear instead (never mind the fact that it killed me that she wanted to wear socks with her capri pants at all - her shoes hurt her feet, so I was begrudgingly agreeing to the socks in the first place). But I just couldn't let her go out in those blasted red socks. Two sizes too big so the purple heels were actually up on her ankles, tops folded down like a bad 80's trend.

I expressed my displeasure for those dumb red socks and produced the white socks. Princess #1 immediately began tearing up and complaining that she wanted to wear the RED socks, not WHITE - the white ones didn't match (no, the irony was not lost on me). I told her again to take off the red socks and put on the white ones and through her tears she wailed "why?". And before I could catch myself I frustratingly replied "because I don't want the kids at school to make fun of you!". I immediately regretted my response. Do I really want to teach my child that it's important to worry about what other people think? That we should decide what to wear based on others reactions? I needn't have worried though, because immediately Princess #1 stopped crying and looked up at me with wide eyes. "But I don't care" was all she said. And in that moment I decided that I was the one that needed to learn the lesson this morning. I hugged her and sent her off to school - non matching red socks and all.

My gift

This mother's day has reminded me why I do what I do. Why I labored for hours on end to deliver 4 beautiful babies into the world. Why I kiss invisible booboos and bandage the ones I can see. Why I wake up when I hear a coughing fit coming from across the house. Why I put up with the whining, the temper tantrums, the attitude.

Tonight I tucked Princess #2 back into bed after waking her at 9pm to take a dose of ibuprofen. She had been battling a fever all day and it had spiked during her earlier sleep. After rubbing her back and cooling her forehead with a damp washcloth, she asked me in her sweet voice if I would lay in bed with her for a little bit. Promising to do so, I tucked her in and laid my head down on her pillow. In a reprimanding voice she instructed me to lay my whole body in her bed. So I climbed in next to her tiny frame. I brushed her messy hair out of her face and voiced "precious princess" under my breath. And that's when her small arms wrapped around my waist and she whispered back "precious mommy".

It doesn't get any better than that.

My Super Powers

I made a startling revelation today. Once Princess #4 is 6 months old and eating some solid food, I will have personally sustained human life for exactly 5 years total all by myself. FIVE YEARS. 9 months for each of the Princesses' pregnancies (9 x 4 = 36 months) and the first 6 months of life for each of the Princesses while they eat only breastmilk (6 x 4 = 24 months). FIVE YEARS. I still can't get over it. Equally startling is the fact that if you stack all 4 of my pregnancies back to back, I have been pregnant for 3 years total. Wow. I am superwoman.