on being a good mom/mum. or, wine and lovely babies bring perspective.

so today i’ve been a little bit of a witch with a capital b. i blame it a little on myself (hindsight is 20/20, right?) but mostly i blame it on the british.

now, for my british friends out there, i don’t mean you as individuals, i mean you as a country in general, and more specifically whichever governing body decided that british mother’s day would fall on the church’s mothering sunday rather than today (the american, and italian, and apparently the every other country in the world-recognized mother’s day).

i had a lovely british mother’s day in march with my husband and beautiful baby, and i tried today to remember that day. but it’s just so damn hard when all of my american friends are bragging about their lovely lovely mommies and how special/lucky/amazing/vomtastic they all are. and yes, they are all of those things. and so is my mom, of course, who celebrates the day today. it just makes it so hard to be in between the two holidays, feeling like i can only partially celebrate each of them.

so i sat sulking for awhile this afternoon, feeling like a sad, lonely, lost mummy/mommy (seriously! what am i?!) when i realized i was being stupid. i had not one, but TWO days dedicated to me and my new role in our family. i had TWO days to remember how amazing my own mother is, and how amazingly difficult it is to be a mother. i see my own mother in a new way now, and from that perspective, can appreciate what i do for s on a daily basis so much more. so instead of feeling sorry for myself and missing out with playtime with my own wonderful daughter, tonight, i splashed with her in the bath, sang to her on our bed, and read the same stories with her that my mother read to me when i was a little girl. it doesn’t matter if i got any cards or flowers today, or if everyone i know wished me a happy mother’s day. all that matters is that i recognized the special relationship i have with my mother and the little girl that made me a mother, too.

cheesy and cheesier.

cheesy and cheesier.

madre and me.

madre and me.

(this vom fest is brought to you in part by p, whose swift kick up the bum inspired me to get off my bum and stop feeling sorry for myself. thanks for that.)

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