What Will My Children Remember About Me?
Mother’s Day is just around the corner, what will your children remember about you, momma?
I was laying on the couch trying to nap the other day and I had a flashback to my own childhood. As my sweet babies played quietly (or not so quietly, let’s be honest) during nap time, I remembered my mom took a lot of naps growing up. Everyday in the afternoon she would go to her bedroom (lock the door) and take a quick nap. At the time I never paid attention to how long she was napping…but I imagine it was only for a half hour or an hour at the most. Everyday, ritually she would lay down to rest.
As a little girl, I never thought anything about it. Looking back, especially as mother myself, I completely 100% understand why she took naps during the day! She was a stay-at-home mom AND a working mom. She worked evenings and midnights my entire childhood. I am only a stay-at-home mom and I am starting to need a nap every afternoon.
Once, when I was about ten, my brother, who was probably eight at the time, was playing outside with our youngest sister, a toddler. They came rushing in after being out in the woods for a few minutes. She was holding her hands on top of her head and when she took them off, blood was covering her hands. My brother had been playing with an old rusty hatchet and I imagined the worst!
They assured me a branch fell on her head, after he had been “chopping” down tress in the backyard. I ran to wake up my mom who was asleep because she had worked midnights the night before. She woke up in a start and when she saw the blood, she almost fainted. The exhaustion and sight of blood was a little much.
My aunt came over and my mom took my sister to get stitches. When I would tell people the story, my mom always cringed or scolded me when I told them she was sleeping while this happened. I didn’t understand the big deal as a ten-year-old. It was part of the story. Her napping was not a relevant point.
Until the other day when I was laying down, and trying to listen to the noises of my children playing. I thought about my mom and why she didn’t like that story at all because if one of my children got hurt while I was napping, I remember her in so many ways, but neglectful was never one of them. I never felt cheated because she worked. I still don’t. I learned how to do many household because I wanted to help her while she worked.
When I remember my mother, the things I remember are small. The ordinary things like cooking, siting at the kitchen table doing school work, and her folding clothes on her bed. So when I think about my own children, I need to remember the ordinary things will be what they remember.
As a mother, it isn’t my job to provide for them amazing adventures, lots of things, or exciting plans…..they won’t remember that when it comes to remembering me. It will be the way I took turns holding each one before bed and taking for a few minutes. It is in the daily serving that adds up to a lifetime of serving. I’ve seen it in my own mother and I want to be faithful to continue the legacy.
Blessings friend!
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You are so right, we remember the ordinary, every day things. That is how we love our kids well!