Back on track. I recently fell in love with being a mother and right around the same time my son stopped giving kisses and saying "I love you." I ain't gonna lie--it stinks! But with the help of GT/Becky and some soul searching I can see/know that there's some magic in that. He's becoming his own person, and he's making his own choices (damn). He's evolving, and as our relationship evolves the needs change. Most important to me and my ego is the realization that he can sense that he doesn't have to try so hard anymore. It has been painfully evident for his entire life that the kid can read my mind and as much as I've always sent love I haven't always loved doing it. Cut to now, I love being a mother and he doesn't have to do anything to make that happen. That must be such a relief for his tiny nervous system.
I've learned in therapy that our children are going to trigger all our stuff... forever. So my kid is 5 and it's bringing up my 5 year old stuff and next year it will be my 6 year old stuff. Lately I've been thinking about how if this is what it's like for me to parent a child and get triggered... What the hell did I put my poor mother through? What do I still out her through? Woah.
Mom, thank you for teaching me that shut up, stupid, butt, fart, and sucks are words to avoid. I ignored you for many years, but you were right. They sound particularly awful coming out of the mouth of a small child.
Momma, thank you for giving me the space I needed to make up my own mind about things and thank you for being brave enough to give it me your point of view when I ask for it.
Mom, thank you for being the person who is most responsible for keeping this boy and I alive since the day he was born. I am not sure how I would have done it or how I would do it if I had to do it without you.
Momma, thank you for seeing me, and knowing me, and loving me anyway or maybe even because of those things.
Mom, thank you for all the notes and phone calls getting me out of things I didn't want to do.
Momma, thank you for the late nights of sewing and all of the handmade costumes--every time I wore one, and every time I put one on my son I feel tremendously loved.
Mom, thank you for all the handmade easter baskets and for the store bought one when I asked for it... yours really were better.
Momma, thank you for teaching me "it's only money" and to "see all points of view."
Mom, thank you for letting me be right even when I was wrong.
Momma, thank you for trying to protect me from harm in all forms for so long.
Mom, thank you for giving me an opportunity to learn tact, grace, courage, eloquence, and love just by watching you be you.
I love you.
Thank you for letting the Universe assign me to you.
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