A potent truth

A potent truth

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Being Mommy

I have spent time reflecting on the wonders of motherhood lately, I love being mom to my sons. I know that I have talked about my children on several occasions here, but I cannot help myself. They are an enormous part of who I am and who I will become. As they grow and change I also grow and change.
By no means do I mean to say that I am comprised of mostly my "mommy" characteristics, I only mean to say that being mom to two boys has made up a great deal of who I have become.
I was initially a bit wary of raising a boy, since I had spent most of my life until my son's birth around girls. I am the oldest of three girls and of eight grandchildren on my mother's side, there were only two boys. So, when my bouncing baby boy came into my life I was, understandably, slightly overwhelmed by the task before me.
That being said, I have settled into this role I have been placed into and I love my boys like nothing else in this world. I cannot imagine my life without them in it.
A while back I wrote this poem for my youngest son, whom I have found the most challenging in temperament, and whom I often find myself most frustrated with, but I love him no less than his older brother. Honestly, his ability to challenge me is good for me and forces me to find new ways to approach parenting and exercise patience.
So now that I have rambled on about being a mom and my fabulous sons I will move on to the end and give you the poem. Please, enjoy and have a blessed day!

For My Son

He chases dandelion fluff,
He dances with bubbles in the air.
He chases his hero, his knight so tough,
with sunlight shinning in his hair.
With dimples dancing upon his cheeks,
sparkles glinting within his eyes,
and a mouth from which laughter leaks
he plays as if he owns the skies.
So, keeping my little love from harm,
I watch all around,
for danger coming from up afar
to that which may strike from the ground.
All the while he plucks flowers of yellow
and plays with every bug,
thinking them funny fellows.
Oh, my child, my child, my precious dear,
how I love you so!
I'll revel in your smiles so dear
and watch you as you grow.
-Constance

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