But there are things I’m proud of in my mothering experience. Surely I can come up with three.

1. I love all of my children equally. Once upon an archived webpage, I had a dramatic e-run-in with another birth mother who said that we, as birth parents, shouldn’t love our relinquished children as much as our parented children. This made my eyes pop out of my head. Without calling her stupid, I told her that her argument didn’t hold much water, at least or especially with me. She was arguing the point from the vantage point of a birth mother who is not actively parenting another child. As one who was at the time and continues to do so, now with more kids under my roof, I can tell you that I do not hold one child over another, no matter where they live, eat or create havoc. And yes, I do take pride in this fact. I love that Munchkin so very much. I am super proud of all of her accomplishments. I would lay down my life to protect her. And I will never be fully able to explain how vast my love is for her. And the same goes for the boys. I marvel at their daily accomplishments and boast about their milestones. I’d throw myself in harm’s way simply to protect them from danger. And I don’t think they’ll understand how much I truly love them. Perhaps I’m unique in this fact but I really don’t think so… but I’m still proud of that unconditional and equal love.

2. I don’t hate being a work-slash-stay at home mom and I don’t feel guilty about leaving the “workforce.” When I was pregnant with BigBrother, I went on and on about how I was going to remain a working mother. I looked down my nose at mothers who chose to stay home. I thought that they lacked ambition and that they were setting a poor example for their children. (Wait! Stop throwing tomatoes! I get my come uppance in a second! Keep reading!) Then BigBrother was born and my world was turned upside down. I went back to work and hated every moment of it. Okay, not every moment. I loved the thrill of the live newscast. And that one time that I wore BigBrother in a front carrier while switching a live newscast? Yes, that was a good moment. (See photo.) But the other moments sucked. When he neared eight months old and was crawling, babbling and hitting a million milestones per day, I ate crow, turned in my two weeks notice and came on home with my tail between my legs. And oh, being home, whether I’m just mothering for an entire day or throwing in one of my many freelancing jobs into the mix, is a million times harder than I ever thought it would be. So, while I’m not so proud of the judgment that I previously tossed at mothers who stay home, I am proud of the fact that I am thriving in my role as a stay-slash-work at home mom and enjoying almost every minute of it. (Really? Did I mention that BigBrother peed on my lap last week? Not my favorite moment.)

3. I am not too scared OR too proud to try new things. I am constantly learning about this parenting thing. I am the first to admit that I am mostly flying by the seat of my pants. But I am proud of the fact that I don’t really ever let “good enough” become my motto. Right now, for example, I’m reading books on positive discipline so that I might be a better guide for my (strong-willed) two year old and, eventually, his little brother. And if those things don’t work for LittleBrother like they are with BigBrother, well, I’ll read some more books. The biggest examples of this, of course, are in the few changes we made on initial things done with BigBrother to how we did the variations of those things with LittleBrother. For those who don’t know, BigBrother was not breastfed. (No throwing stones. There were reasons and they were worked out in therapy. Thank you.) LittleBrother will hit the six month milestone of exclusive breastfeeding on the 24th of this month! Furthermore, BigBrother wasn’t cloth diapered until night-time at around 18 months of age. I thought it would be too much work. Pfft. I got schooled on that one, didn’t I? And as such, LittleBrother started out in cloth from the get-go. I learn from everything I do as a parent, whether it’s something I perceive as a mistake, something that I could simply have done better or something I did pretty darn awesome that I’d like to repeat in the future. Even better, I constantly learn from my Mom-friends. I am (usually?) not offended when someone offers up advice. I ask a lot of questions (really, I do). And I constantly push myself to be the best mom I can be… which involves going back to the drawing board at times and starting over. And that’s okay.

I’m proud of a lot more. Really. I am. I’m not bragging. But darn it, I’m a great Mom in so many different ways. Sometimes I fail. Sometimes I have bad days. (Weeks. Months?) But my children are all thriving in age appropriate ways. And I love watching them all experience new things in their lives.

And, there you have it. What are YOU proud of?

I always wanted a sister. I desperately wanted a sister. I sat on my swing set, around age five, just crying because I wanted a sister to play with; swings, dolls, mud pie making and everything in between. Instead, just before I turned eight, I got a brother. Of all things! A brother! I mean, I was a tomboy but, ew, a boy? Ick, ick, ick.

Apparently God was just preparing me for my future roll as an everyday mother to boys.

Because I love all things boy. And I’m glad that FireDad and I were able to have two of them so close in age. Though, I don’t know why we’re taking credit for the boy thing. And, when it comes down to it, though we actively tried to conceive them both at the times that we did, we didn’t have super control over the actual outcome either. BUT, technicalities aside, my boys have a forever playmate. Someone to hang out with in the living room in nothing but shirts and underwear. Or, cloth diapers if you’re the younger one.

No, they won’t always get along. I’m not that naive. (Though, I am naive about a lot of things, aren’t I?) We did go through a two week stint in which BigBrother tried to whack LittleBrother any time we turned our backs. But that has passed, for now. I know there will be fights over toys (and soon as LittleBrother has already started to scooch along the floor). I know there will be arguments that include, “MOM! HE’S LOOKING AT ME!” I know they will eventually say mean, nasty and hateful words to one another.

But right now?

I can’t help but be filled with hope and love when I bring LittleBrother out in the morning and BigBrother runs up and gives him hugs and says, “GOOD MORNING BROTHER!” Or when BigBrother asks for a goodnight kiss from LittleBrother and thus allows his face to be slimed by the current open mouth, slobbery, smooshy-faced kisses that LittleBrother is known for giving out. Or when LittleBrother gives his lop-sided, full-body, squee-filled grin whenever BigBrother walks into a room. Or, or, or. My life is filled with these little moments right now. I’m trying to capture so many of them so, one day, when they’re fighting over the last piece of candy or the favorite fire truck, I can hold up a picture and say, “SEE! You DO like each other! SO QUIT IT ALREADY!”

I’ll never have a sister. I’ll never have a sibling super-close to my age. But I’ll get to watch the love grow between two brothers. And that feels good enough to me.

More Love Thursday here.

1. Project365. I did take a picture every day, all month. The last week is filled with a bunch of boring, “Crud, I Need to Take a Picture Now” kind of shots. There were some great shots, sure, but it wasn’t my most inspired photographic month. I suppose all artists, no matter the genre, have such months. Or years. And so, here’s my monthly mosaic. Our pictures are (almost) all public on our flickr set.

2. Reading. Oh, books. Let me tell you, it wasn’t my best reading month ever. Why? Well, let’s take a look at the title of the one book I read all month: The No-Cry Sleep Solution by Elizabeth Pantley. That’s right. LittleBrother had a rough sleep month and I was desperately trying to figure out how to handle it in a gentle but results-driven method. Since I was sleep deprived, reading for fun wasn’t at the top of my list. And so, I’m greatly behind on my reading for the year now. I’m hoping to pick it up a little in the next few months. Sigh.

3. Weight loss. Ugh. Do we have to go there? I haven’t seen movement on the scale for a month and a half now. I am upset. I am discouraged. I am trying to remind myself that my main goal, of course, is to continue to nurse LittleBrother and that involves consuming calories but, ugh, I am pretty upset with myself right now. We have finally made the decision to join a gym. We are going with the YMCA for various reasons. Some of these include, morning daycare for the kiddos while I workout in any number of the free fitness classes (everything from yoga to hip-hop aerobics), a new set of equipment, great stuff in general and, if I’m feeling like pushing myself, it is in walking distance from our home. I’m hoping that by the end of June I’ll see some movement on the scale. Oh, please, please, please.

And so, April wasn’t so great. May isn’t shaping up to be all that awesome on the goal-front either. But I forge ahead.

Also, a small bit of smile for FireDad again courtesy of BigBrother. (It’s 9:24am and LittleBrother has been back to sleep for awhile, hence his lack of presence in the video. Maybe later.)

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Have a Happy FireDad’s “Dirthday,” folks.

PS: This is my first time embedding on the site with Flickr’s video capability now. Apologies if it doesn’t work, stinks or makes your RSS reader explode.

But BigBrother put it best. He said, and I quote, “Happy ‘Nother’s Day.” Yes, it was just another day. One that makes me smile. I did have a photo shoot with the boys. This sums up BigBrother’s attitude by the end of it. Which makes me smile even more. I love these two. (Of note: We chose this location so Munchkin’s photo on the table next to us could be included.) (Also? Spot the Redbook!)

If you’re wondering what my loving Husband and awesome boys got me for Mother’s Day, well, it’s the necklace I’ve been longing for since before BigBrother was even conceived. It’s the Lenox Mother’s Little Gems Pendant. I couldn’t get it until we completed our family as you can’t add more gems later. And, in case you didn’t know, no, we’re not having any more children. (Maybe more on that someday. Not today.) And so, I was finally able to ask for it for Mother’s Day. My Husband is Awesome, of course, and got it for me. He, of course, added all of my living children and so it features my birthstone on top (April) and one December (Munchkin) and two November (Big and Little Brothers). They are the contemporary birthstones, not traditional, so it may look confusing at first. But I think it looks lovely.

Isn’t it lovely? Yes. Yes it is. I am SO blessed to three amazing children. I have spent the entire day, despite some emotional issues, thanking God for the blessings in my life. No, things aren’t perfect. Did I mention that this past Friday BigBrother peed on my leg? But I’m learning, albeit rather slowly, that no family is perfect.

But sometimes, in those still small moments when I’m rocking LittleBrother to sleep or when BigBrother tells me to have a “Happy ‘Nother Day” or when the Munchkin calls to tell me that she loves me, well, it feels pretty darn close to perfect.

Happy Mother’s Day. Or, if you’d rather, “Happy ‘Nother Day.”

The picture belongs to Ceece! We decided on this one because of the composition, the colors and, hey, those kids are flipping cute! Congratulations to Ceece. We’ll be mailing your pink Cruzer Gator tomorrow (with some Mother’s Day cards that I didn’t get sent off in time…).

The following pictures and stories are four (of each, so eight) of our favorites. We want to thank everyone for joining in the fun. I’ve decided to put a cut to save the entire length of my blog page. Please click below to read and view all of the Mother’s Day favorites that were entered into our contests!

Picture by Laurie H. Story by Andy: October 6, 1970.

The woman waited in the chair, in awe at what was about to happen. Her dream was about to come true. The journey to this day had been long and bumpy, but now that it was here, all of that was forgotten. She looked over at her husband, trying to read his thoughts, but his face was a stoic mask, revealing no clues to what he might be going through.

The door opened and a woman entered carrying a file folder. It looked too thin. How could those few pieces of paper change so many lives? As she sat down and introduced herself she opened the file, pulled out a paper and began to read it to them. The woman frantically grabbed her purse and pulled out a pen and scrap of paper. She didn’t want to miss a thing, information that may be lost forever after this day. It was too important. She managed to write it all down, illegible to anyone but her, but that didn’t matter. She had it. She could type it up later.

Then suddenly it was time. She was no longer sure that her legs could carry her, and she leaned on her husband for support. They walked out of the office and into another more comfortable room . A stranger stood with her back to them, looking out the window, pacing slowly. When the stranger heard them come in, she turned around to greet them. In her arms was the most amazing baby the woman had ever seen. Because this baby was about to become the woman’s daughter. The stranger, a social worker from Children’s Aid, reached out and handed the woman the baby. And at that moment, the woman became a mother.

I am the baby of this story, adopted by my parents at 6 weeks old. For me, one of my mother’s most defining moments of motherhood was when she realized the importance of the information that the social worker was sharing with them about my first family. My mother was not so caught up in the excitement of her dream coming true that she forgot about the other people involved. She typed up the information she had and it was pasted in the front of my baby book. In a time of closed adoptions, when adoptive parents were often told to just move on, treat her as if she were born to you, don’t worry about the past, my mother had the insight to think that one day I would want to know why I had brown eyes and was taller then every one around me. She knew that the clues might help me find my first mother one day. She was not threatened by this, but embraced my beginnings as a part of me.

Photo by Ellie Mae. Story by Coco. YThe first night in the hospital after Bean was born was my big defining moment. I’d been in labor for 36 hours, rushed into an emergency C-Section, was just getting my legs back from the epidural, still had a catheter in, and was chock-full o’Percocet. I felt like I’d been in a 12 round prize fight and I was dying for sleep, but I couldn’t. I was afraid something would go wrong. I stared at my son, a little bit away from me in his bassinet, sleeping swaddled in a hospital blanket.

Then Tiny Bean woke up. He started to cry. And I dragged myself up and hauled the bassinet next to my bed. I picked up my new baby. I nursed him and he quieted, safe and warm next to my skin. It was dark and we were alone together, he and I, as his daddy slept.

“It’s OK,” I soothed, kissing his tiny fingers, “Mommy’s got you.”

That’s when it hit me that I was, indeed, a mommy. His mommy.

Photo by Angewa. Story by cheryl. I am the very proud mother of an 11 yr old boy. Last year was my first year being a noncustodial parent. Please don’t judge me. I gave up the fight so that he could live in the house I grew up and continue his piano and theatre and attend the same school.
It is very difficult not being with him every day, he is my life. He is with me frequently yet never enough. At times, I wished for peace and quiet and now I count the days to hear running in the house and the piano being played.

Love them, appreciate them, never take your child for granted.

It would have been very easy to give up on life. I cannot give up on him. I will not give up on being his mom for the rest of his life; however I can.

FireMom addition: Cheryl; no one on this blog, in this household, is going to judge you. There’s a reason why your story is placed with the photo I chose. Bless you and your family. Same to you, Ang!)

Photo by Jenny. Story by call_me_ps! On a cold day in March of 1999, I sat in uncomfortable silence in the front seat of the car, a precocious, beautiful blonde child in her carseat behind me. My then-boyfriend had gone inside a store for some long-forgotten errand, and we were waiting for him to come out. Finally, I turned to look at the blonde child, swallowing my nerves, and said, “Hi Kennedy!”

She glared coldly back at me, and in the most commanding voice I’d ever heard a 2-year-old use told me in no uncertain terms, “You can’t be my mother!”

Fast forward to another cold day in March. This time, it’s 2008. My 2-year-old daughter glares at her 11-year-old stepsister who is cuddling on my lap and declares, “That’s MY Mommy!”

The 11-year-old, still blonde, but no longer the chubby-cheeked little girl from 9 years before, glares back at her little sister. “You’re going to have to share!” she retorts, snuggling in closer and giving me a hug.

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To all my participants, photo or story, I thank you. I bet that your photos and stories will brighten others experience today.

Happy Mother’s Day to all.

My daughter takes my breath away every single day. We tried for two years to have her, and we were beginning to worry that it would never happen. With all we went through to get her, I would get frustrated sometimes and once, I grumbled that the baby we were trying for had better be the “best kid ever”. Now, when my husband and I watch her learning new things every day and when she clings to us and pats us on the shoulder because she’s so excited to see us… we know that indeed, she IS the best baby ever!

Kisha? I’ve so been there, so said it, so felt it. And my guess is that the rest of my readers (moms and dads alike) know exactly where you’re coming from! I hope you have a fabulous Mother’s Day. (And, from the looks of the ticker on your LJ, some precious little girl has a first birthday coming up, no? WOOHOO!) Enjoy that as well!

And for the rest of my readers, especially those that entered the photo contest, I need you to come back on Sunday. That’s right. I’m going to make you wait. Sweat it out. Bite your nails. Because I know you have nothing more important going on all weekend then to wait to find out if you won my contest. (Ha!) But really, I want FireDad to help me pick the winning photo, four other photos and the five stories to include in our SUPER FABULOUS MOTHER’S DAY POST EXTRAVAGANZA! (I just made the name up on the fly. Like it?) And FireDad is actually at work through tomorrow morning. So, I’ll be picking the other winner and making the post with all of my favorites on Sunday in celebration of all of our entrants and all of the mothers who read this blog and, really, mothers everywhere. See? EXTRAVAGANZA!

Kisha, I’ll drop your red Cruzer Gator in the mail tomorrow. (Today is impossible as FireDad is at work and I’m home alone with both boys and will be for a total of 36 hours by the time he gets home tomorrow morning… oh, goodness.) For the photo winner, yet to be announced, yours will be dropped in the mail on Monday morning!

Oh, and, well, maybe tomorrow I might write a post about how this weekend makes me feel. But I really wouldn’t bet your home on it. This is just a hard time for me in general and the ability to focus on others via this contest and giveaway has helped me deal with (and/or avoid) my own emotions in a much calmer fashion. So, thank you, dear Blog Friends and Readers, for helping me get through this difficult time.