Being a Mother

I ran across a poem the other day that made me think about my priorities. Sometimes I try to be Wonder Woman. I feel like my day is a success if Ella is happy, I've had my devotions, my dishes are done, dinner is in the oven, the laundry is all washed and put away, my bed is made, I've gone to the gym. So of course, I count very few of my days as a complete success. When I remember this week a year from now...will I remember a memory I made with Ella this week or will I remember that I made my bed every day this week? For me, sometimes (ok, a lot of times), its very easy to lose focus of what's really important. When Ella remembers her childhood, will she remember a Mom who always kept a clean house or will she remember a Mom who wanted to spend time with her above anything else? Will she remember a Mom who cooked a 3 course meal every night, or will she remember how I played hide and seek with her or made her laugh until her belly hurt? I know there is a fine balance here but I'll admit, I've yet to find it. I'm trying to find the balance. I'm totally type-A personality. I have a VERY hard time looking the other way when there's dishes in the sink. I develop a little tick if I can't sweep my kitchen floor at least once a day. Where do I find the balance between "this is who I am" and "I want to be more laid back?"

These are just some of the thoughts that have been rattling around in my type-A brain lately! I actually made a list about how I can be more laid back. O dear. I think I need serious help people! :)

Here's this poem that got me thinking. I so want to be this kind of Mom!

Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I've grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo

The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
And out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
But I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo
Look! Aren't his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.

The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.