Being a Mother is So Much More than I Ever Could Imagine

This is a compensated campaign in collaboration with Johnson’s® and Latina Bloggers Connect but all opinions about being a mother and memories are my own.

Being a mother is so much more than I ever thought it could be. My daughters are everything to me. That is not an exaggeration. I realize that sounds antiquated and I never knew I had it in me to be this kind of woman. I’ve always been independent and self-sufficient. There was a brief time I my late teens, early twenties where I was pretty dependent on boyfriends because when you are that age your entire life revolves around the people you call your friends and the boy you date. Then I grew up and got married.

We had a great time, the two of us. I married the perfect guy for me, as I like to say he was everything, I never knew I always wanted and since the first day we met, we’ve been together. He calls me his soul mate; I call it meant to be. I wasn’t even supposed to be there when we met. There were a million reasons we should’ve never met but we did and I thought that was the biggest love I could ever have and then I had my daughters.

Two things happened when I became a mom. I fell deeper in love with the Big Guy than I ever thought was possible. I mean who doesn’t love a man who loves a child? It’s like kryptonite to my uterus. The other thing that happened, I fell completely head over heels in love with the squishy little person we made together. There are not even words to explain how much I love my children. Then I realized that the price of loving someone so big and hard is that you are completely vulnerable.

Mother, mother's day,Johnsons and johnsons

Every coo had me mesmerized. Every finger clasp had my heart going pitter-patter. Those big blue eyes looked straight through my soul. They make me want to be a better person. I want to give them the best of everything; childhood, life and of me. I happily bend over backwards to make them as happy as their existence makes my heart. They truly complete me. I can’t even remember the person I was before they were born. I do know that she was not half the person I am tonight.

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This is the relationship we’ve had since they were born. The random neck hugs, middle of the night cuddles, kisses and tiny voices whispering, “I love you mommy to the moon and back”, that’s the good stuff. That’s the stuff that makes life beautiful, to me. But oh, disappointing them hurts like nothing I’ve ever felt. Letting them down feels like the ultimate failure.

My girls never went through the, “No!” phase in their toddler years. I thought I dodged a bullet. But no, it’s just coming a little later. My girls are starting to exert their own independence now. I take it as it comes because I understand, one’s a tween and the other is just at the age where she’s confident enough to tell me now without the worry of alienating me. She knows my love is unconditional but that doesn’t make it hurt any less when she refuses my request.

The mother/daughter relationship is ever changing and evolving.

They don’t need me as much as they used to, unfortunately, I still need them. I need them to love unconditionally and always. But they still need me for some things that might seem insignificant to them but mean everything to me. Shhh, don’t tell them or they’ll stop. You know kids.

My favorite part of the day when they were babies was bath and bedtime. I remember the Big Guy and I would give them baths and then massage them with Johnson’s lavender bedtime lotion. It always seemed to relax them and research shows that touch is critical to baby’s growth, development, communication and learning. These days they give themselves their own baths but they still come to me afterwards and ask me to put the lotion on them, brush and braid their hair. Every time I smell that bedtime lotion, I can see the babies they were and I can forgive them any transgression, even telling me, “No.”

This is a sponsored campaign in collaboration with JOHNSON’S® and Latina Bloggers Connect. However, all opinions expressed are my own.

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