I'm not the mother of a margarine commercial. I have witch days with the girls, especially when they mess up wardrobe drawers. I lose the easy patience and it gets clear in a few shouts that I distribute by the house. I get furious when they do not eat everything, they put their foot on the wall, they fight with each other. I place punishment. And this outburst, in my opinion, is what I call real motherhood. Is to take the pink filter of a beautiful thing, a miracle. Because every now and then being a mom is punk, let's combine. But still it's still too much. And I love being a mother!
I love being a mother
I decided to talk about it after reading part of Mariliz Pereira Jorge's column in Folha Folha dos dias (I say part because I'm not a subscriber). On her face page I found the following text in the call to the subject: "What terrifies me the most is the" real "maternity. Social networks have revealed the bitter part of bringing children into the world. Once the mothers have resolved to count as unfiltered what they live on a daily basis, I think perhaps my absence of "gift" is just an instinct for survival. "
Actually my favorite author is right when she says that many people love sharing their social networks, especially some mothers. They speak of the pain of childbirth, of breastfeeding, of deprivation of sleep, of lack of freedom, of money, of sex. Calm down people! Of course, like everything else in life, having children gives work. It makes us give up some things. Thank you for setting priorities.
Everything is not flowers …
Of course, creating is difficult. Educate is exhausted. Of course all this irritates, exhaust. There are days when we dream of having an MRI to have silence and peace even for a few minutes. But what about the rest of the days? Of these no one else speaks? What a pity. To delight in their complaints they leave aside what makes me repeat that I love being a mother …
No one speaks, for example, how amazing it is to look at your child and recognize yourself in another person. How delightful to feel that your child rushes to you when you feel threatened. How inebriating it is to hear a slim mouth say "mama." No one talks how enjoyable it is to see your grandmother take her son in her arms as she did with you. How amazing it is to see your father roll on the grass with his grandson as if he were 20 years old again. It's sad to see people talk about how complicated the first days of breastfeeding are, but most of them forget to tell you how delicious it is after you pick them up.
It's sad to see people talking about how complicated the first days of breastfeeding are. way. Everyone loves to say that after having children we no longer sleep, but forget to say that sleeping in a child embraced is one of the most delicious things in the world. And there goes …
Nowadays people like to complain. Complain about work. Complain about her husband. They complain about their children. Everything is too difficult. Too pitiful. It is not always easy, I confess. But if one could give advice to anyone who is scared of these people, my advice would be: ignore. Each experience is unique. Yours can be much lighter and more delicious. Like mine.
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