Wednesday, June 18, 2014

The Art of Mothering.

It doesn't start with birth.

For someone who was content to not have kids ever, I've come a long way.
I can never replace any ones mother, but I can share the motherly essence with anyone all the same.

Hubba probably doesn't have the freedom other kids have. She hides her ears when she's done something wrong. She is corrected if she falls out of line. From the outside looking in, may look like a child living with regimental rules. She's not allowed to let her hair out (literally) during the day. The consequences are a session with the hairbrush and detangler, which she despises. She cannot have certain food because it's not gluten free. If you give her contraband, you are spared the aftermath her body goes through at home. She knows very well what 1, 2, 3 means and she knows time on gadgets and devices are a privilege.

In turn, she is regimental. She likes structure. She does not like her hair out. She follows rules and knows what not to eat. She knows where the vicks is when her tummy aches from too much bread. She knows her shoes go in her shoe bug at the end of the day. She knows the contents of her lunch box. She knows juice is a treat. She is very much so spoilt by those around her, but she is happy because I've nailed how to lead and love.

Who'd have thought I was capable ...

1 comment:

Melissa said...

Lol look at her cute fingers on that toy skateboard.
I'm glad you've figured it out. I was gonna have a no yelling day today and I didn't even get out of bed and have already broke it.

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