There’s a difference between a teacher and a great teacher. A teacher is someone that shows up, speaks the material, does daily duties, and goes home. A great teacher is so much more than that and I want, no, I need to express my gratitude to you. All too often your hard work goes unnoticed and I want you to know that it’s not for naught.
This mama has noticed.
Thank you for loving our children, both little and big, as your own, for watching over them when us parents can’t be there. Thank you for always putting them first before yourselves. Thank you for not only teaching them their ABCs but also proper classroom and playground etiquette. Thank you for the countless shoes you’ve tied, jackets you’ve zipped, and gloves you’ve put on. Thank you for not only teaching them algebra but also how to deal with and balance academics and life because as you know, personal affairs are never left at home. Thank you for the broken hearts you’ve helped mend, friendships you’ve salvaged, and all the times you’ve just been there and not even known your presence alone is making a difference. Thank you for finding a balance between challenging students that need the extra push, giving extra assistance to those that are too challenged and working with those students that may be more challenging in and of themselves. Your day is busy.
This mama has noticed.
Thank you for going above and beyond the four walls of the classroom:
“Birth.” A day that will change your life forever. This day looks different to everyone. For some, it’s actually days…plural. For others it may be so fast you almost didn’t make it to the hospital. For some, it may not even happen at a hospital. For others it may include the best Neonatal Doctors and Nurses there are. For some it might be a c-section. For others it might be au natural. For some it may be the day you adopted your child. For others it may be the day you became a foster parent. But whatever you call it, however you experience it…it’s amazing. As parents we have spent hours, days, months (and for some even years!) wondering what our unborn child(ren) will look like, smell like, feel like. Wondering what it will be like the first time we hold them, hear their cry, see their smiles. We wonder about the personalities they will develop, and the men and women that in a blink they will become. We spend hours praying for them, for their friends, for their teachers, for each of their spouses, for the jobs they will have, the careers they will hold. The pictures that formed in our head during those expectant months just bold outlines in a coloring book waiting to be filled in.
Of course we have many hopes and dreams for them. But please consider this…
I know how to make homemade playdough, build the best forts. I race matchbox like a pro, have the best Choo Choo sound around, and have built some pretty great Chima Legos. I have seen every Veggie Tale movie, can belt out any Disney song, and know how to shake my thang to Raffi. I despise The Wiggles, Spongebob, and Yo Gabba Gabba. I know how to sing the abcs, twinkle twinkle and every other nursery song imaginable and I have made up countless versus to nursery songs to keep them going long enough for tiny little eyes to close. I can recite Goodnight Moon, The Going to Bed Book, and On The Night You Were Born. I know the theme songs for the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Power Rangers, and Curious George to name a few. I am fun.
I have stretch marks snaking my belly, an extra 5 lbs on my hips, spider veins on my legs. I’m lucky to get a shower long enough to shave, never mind actually getting lucky enough to shower. I have bags under my eyes and constantly have my hair pulled back in a ponytail. And after nursing 3 kids well, my boobs have shrunk to nothing. I have been peed on, pooped on and thrown up on. Yet, I am beautiful.
What was formerly www.transparenciesofmotherhood.blogspot is now gretacheney.com. Welcome. I hope you find this site an inspiring, raw, transparent, and real look at motherhood…or at least my experience as “mom.” In the next few weeks I will be posting some old posts mixed in with some new ones.
Long-ing (noun):a prolonged, persistent yearning or unfulfilled desire or need, especially one that cannot be fulfilled.
Baby gender disappointment. This is not something I am proud of. However, I feel it’s one of those unspoken things of motherhood. Therefore, I am willing to be transparent for a moment and share my heart. The reason this is often unspoken? Because there are so many women that struggle to have a baby…any baby. There are so many people that say “just be happy you have 2 healthy kids.” Truth be told, I am grateful I have 2 happy kids, I love both of my boys equally, with all my heart. But why do I always feel I need to apologize for wanting a girl? Why do I feel I need to apologize for being disappointed we were having another baby boy?
When my husband and I found out I was pregnant the first time we didn’t care what gender the baby was. We found out early that it was a he? Ecstatic.