Tag you're it...

I got tagged recently by Verity to join an experiment begun by Her Bad Mother. The idea is to see if it is possible to 'go around the world in 80 clicks' creating a 'global conversation' between blogging mothers living in different countries. Here’s the plan from its point of origin:

Here's how it's going to work: this post that you're reading? Is the departure lounge. I'm going to link to a couple of other mom bloggers here in Canada, and to a couple of mom bloggers from other countries around the world, and they'll write their posts, sharing 5 things that they love (or maybe what they don't so much love - this playground doesn't force conformity) about being a mom, and then they'll tag a few more bloggers from their own country and from other countries, and so on. And you're more than welcome to join: just write a post of your own (5 things that you love about being a mom) and find someone to link to and tag - someone from your own country, if you like, but definitely someone from another country (Google is a good resource if you don't know any; google any country name and 'mom' in their blog search function) (be sure to let them know that you've tagged them!) - and link back here and leave a comment and we'll add you to the 'itinerary,' which David will compile and post and update as the tour proceeds.

And here I go....

I am not one of those people who was born to be a mother. I didn't even have a lot of time to contemplate the idea before I found myself rushing headlong into being mum, being responsible for a not so little, very fast moving, head strong, profoundly deaf son with a wickedly quirky sense of humour and a not so innocent looking smile. A few years later his brother was born after the same 30 odd long hours of labour on the lounge room floor, watchful and alert, which is how he stayed for most of the first 16 months of his life, not unhappy, not fussy, just awake....very nearly all the time. I learned I could cope without a lot of sleep...just. I learned how to do the dishes, vacuum the floors, play listening games, pee, cook, fold nappies, change nappies, make the beds...ok I lied about that one.... supervise the sandpit and the scone table at playcentre and jump into a great pit full of giant foam cubes at preschool gym all while carrying the wakeful one in a front pack, facing out so he could see the world. In those early days it was hard to find reasons to love being a mum between dirty nappies, sleepless nights, plates of rejected food, tantrums and scowls and the occasional projectile vomit and or explosive poo (theirs not mine). And then it would happen. Little fingers on my cheek from a milky breast connected sucker, ‘I love you mummy’ whispered from beneath the covers, a hug from a nude, warm, baby soap scented body fresh from the bath, the squirm of anticipation as he settles in my lap armed with a favourite book ready for a story, catching them playing together peacefully, or big brother ‘helping’ little brother with his shoes/blocks/biscuit, little feet and delicious little toes, seeing the penny drop in those clear blue eyes as he makes a connection, the bubble of giggles formed from a tickle, little arms flung above the head in silent triumph at a new achievement, long dark eyelashes resting on fat baby cheeks, a face in midst crumple as he looks around for his mummy...me...
I love that motherhood has taught me patience, that being a young mother means I played too, got messy, danced at the same dance studio, we still listen to the same music, enjoy the same movies, read the same books and speak the same language.
I love being mum to teenagers. I love that we travel together, explore new cities together, huddle under camel blankets in a 10 dollar backpackers waiting for the heat to come on... together, nearly freeze to death on the top of Mt Sinai while waiting for an early January sunrise ...together, sit on an airport floor consoling ourselves with wonkers chewy gobstoppers while waiting for a delayed flight...together.
What I love the most about being a mother is that it has taught me so many things about myself and the world that I could not have possibly learned any other way. I learned that I am powerful and strong when I need to be, that I remember what to do when my 1 year old gets a mint imperial stuck squarely in his windpipe and begins to quietly resemble Augustus Gloop, that I am the calm one when the same child splits his top lip completely in half lengthwise like a burst over ripe tomato getting into the back seat of the mini. I learned that I am an articulate and knowledgeable force to be reckoned with when faced with needless bureaucratic often demeaning red tape and the inadequacies of the public education and health system for deaf kids with ADHD and that this usually surprises people because apparently I look like I am far too young to have children/teenagers/a 19year old and that makes me stupid too. I love that they have taught me to forgive myself and to not be too hard on myself because it’s ok to make mistakes and that it is important and acceptable to say you are sorry. I learned that despite often being made to feel powerless and lost as 'just a mum' I am actually empowered, empowered by birth, empowered by homebirth, empowered by breastfeeding, empowered by teaching and by learning from two beautiful, affectionate, open minded, confident, caring young men who I am proud to call my sons.
And I love that as a mum I both give and receive complete and utter unconditional love and acceptance ....every day.
I’m pretty sure that’s five things-;)
How about you?
So in the spirit of the experiment I’m supposed to nominate 3 blogging mothers to do the same (but of course it’s completely up to you!) but I’d love to hear what Connie at Whale Ears and Other Wanderings,Amanda at The Milk Bar and (I'm sorry I don't know your name!) Paradise Lost in Translation three of the many great blogs I read on a regular basis. And anyone else who reads this is also very welcome to put their five cents in too.