New home

So, we have moved out of my families house and into a home of our own! What a difference a little space makes. I wrote this while I was living with my in-laws. Now that the cold has finally come, I'm reminiscent of that warm Summer Breeze.
Summer Breeze
I open the doors and windows, to let in the summer breeze. I walk outside and let it encompass me. I feel it on my face, on my arms, on my hands and feet. It washes over me and the toils of the day go with it. I forget my troubles by closing my eyes. I think of peace and let the breeze go through me and blow all those troubles away, like a dandilion blown into the wind.

Motherhood

I feel like motherhood is something that no one truly understands until one is in it. It can't be explained and is often times misunderstood. How often has someone seen a stressed out mom at the store, park, school who just looks like she should have had one child instead of many. Mom's realize that other mom's know how it is. We have been where you are on one day or another. You love your child, but at the same time, wish you could just disappear from them for just a few minutes. I wrote this on one of those days. When the stress of motherhood (and life) were just too much. I love my children, but we all have 5 minute days AND IT'S OK!

5 Minutes

All I want is just five minutes

to go to the bathroom,

wash my face,

Maybe get a shower.

All I want is just five minutes

To not hear "Mommy!"

or the crying baby

or the whining toddler.

All I want is just five minutes

To let myself think

To be a person

To have a brain!

All I want is just five minutes

Just five minutes

To look at you

With love again.

The Beginning

So, this is the first time I'm blogging. I think it will be a good way to let other's see my writing without having to ask them to read it. The first thing I ever wrote was The Perfect Mother. I wrote this while Brent was working nights, I was feeling inadequate with three little ones and began to write down my thoughts.

The Perfect Mother

You’re not the perfect mother. You just don’t understand.
What it’s like to be sixteen, trying to fit in.
I wish I could be prettier or more special in someway,
You can’t help me be those things, so please just go away.
I appreciate all your concern, I really truly do.
But what do you know of love? Of finding something true?
Thank your for the nice warm hug, and the mom advice.
You’re not the perfect mother, but your love is kind of nice.

I’m not the perfect mother. Why is this baby crying?
I just don’t know what I should do. I don’t even feel like trying.
I thought this would be wonderful; so joyous and so gay.
To have a little life to hold, why isn’t it that way?
All I feel is tired, scared to death, I want to run.
As far away as I can go, without hurting anyone.
I’m not the perfect mother; I’ll just keep rocking you.
In hopes that soon you’ll fall asleep, so I can sleep some too.

I’m not the perfect mother that I should be for you.
Your warming smile, your perfect face so much more to do.
I watch you grow from day to day, from morning until night.
To teach you all you need to know, the wrong and of course the right.
I hope you know I love you, each moment that you grow.
From crying babe to college kid, so much you need to know.
I wish I could protect you from the fall and all the pain,
That you no doubt will have throughout your life from day to day.
I’m not the perfect mother, but I’m trying so hard to be.
I hope one day you realize all you mean to me.

“You’re not the perfect mother!” You so boldly say.
I just don’t understand how you could possibly feel this way.
I wish you would just listen and try to understand,
That I was there where you are now, trying to fit in.
I really feel like smiling, but I wouldn’t dare.
Because I know just where you are and I sincerely care.
Your life is just beginning, and you’re afraid to start.
But I know you’ll be ok, deep within my heart.
I’ll be right there to help you, to guide you through those days
When you are scared or tired, and fear you’ve lost your way.

You see, I had a mother who did these things as well.
She helped me through all my tough times and knew that time would tell.
Would tell me soon enough one day that I was meant to be
An imperfect mother, like all women seem to be.
But with that imperfection, comes a love no one can take
A feeling of devotion, that only God himself could make.
The love between a mother and the child that she’s raised
A bond no one can touch but them, a blessing everyday.