and I could make a blaze of lists of all the things you can do. And instead, in the transition between yesterday and today, to remind me what this means to me twelve days, she decided to affirm its contradiction in my respect to every detail. Want to eat? no. Sleeping? no. Walking? no, in her arms. Playing with the pots? no, colors. Want to paint? no tv.
Santapacedelcielo.
I know I know I know, do not say nothing: it is called "growth." They are "stages of development," serve to promote their independence, it is nothing "personal against me," is just "an attempt to understand how the world works" (etc etc, and I could go into that, but Out of a mother at the moment and I do not want to).
Here: as told to Caia this morning, it's like to feel that the flight of a feather that lands on your existence, however subtle, when it comes, determines the most disastrous defeat. Welcome
in maternity's world.
He tells anyone who is so hard? Well, now, yes. Many of you do. E 'than to spend it is another story and never-say-never say or think "that my son does not" give it time, soon he will too, and I am not referring only to things of which a mother to be fair.
Well, this little summary of my seventeen months, in which every 12 days, honey on honey, you were scanning my words. But that's not all. And today I would have to say about him wonder more and much better than yesterday.
But there are days when I'm very tired. Because what most of everything I've learned is that this is a "job" that requires great concentration, pinpoint accuracy from tightrope without a net, and you can not distract you even a moment.
Eh.
I think back to two full days at this post Silvietta and how skillfully you before and better than me, has been able to describe this stage, this "stage", this demand for autonomy and enormous patience of the (already proved) of fatigue a mother.
Read it, if you have not already done so.
She writes:
Great Silvietta.
type I repeat the mantra things she wrote, and I think that if she did it, I can do well myself. Because sometimes, among mothers, this message goes unnoticed today, more than ever, we can talk, complain, write to what is sometimes hellish survive certain aspects of motherhood. But all this only serves to legitimize the viscera: we forget to think that "we can do." You can help. It can be argued, even remotely. One can become, through motherhood, better people.
And then everything resume flowing, not perfectly, of course, but smooth. It is the way forward.
Congratulations Bry: two of us. We'll make it.
Santapacedelcielo.
I know I know I know, do not say nothing: it is called "growth." They are "stages of development," serve to promote their independence, it is nothing "personal against me," is just "an attempt to understand how the world works" (etc etc, and I could go into that, but Out of a mother at the moment and I do not want to).
Here: as told to Caia this morning, it's like to feel that the flight of a feather that lands on your existence, however subtle, when it comes, determines the most disastrous defeat. Welcome
in maternity's world.
He tells anyone who is so hard? Well, now, yes. Many of you do. E 'than to spend it is another story and never-say-never say or think "that my son does not" give it time, soon he will too, and I am not referring only to things of which a mother to be fair.
Well, this little summary of my seventeen months, in which every 12 days, honey on honey, you were scanning my words. But that's not all. And today I would have to say about him wonder more and much better than yesterday.
But there are days when I'm very tired. Because what most of everything I've learned is that this is a "job" that requires great concentration, pinpoint accuracy from tightrope without a net, and you can not distract you even a moment.
Eh.
I think back to two full days at this post Silvietta and how skillfully you before and better than me, has been able to describe this stage, this "stage", this demand for autonomy and enormous patience of the (already proved) of fatigue a mother.
Read it, if you have not already done so.
She writes:
In these days, I like (like?) To conserve their energy for watching me with enough irony and detachment, and notice how difficult it is for me to accept this "no" and how often resonate within me as yet another obstacle in the evening ...
and also why, when I go to the conflict between my exhaustion and its demand for increased autonomy, and fear of broken (I and all my thoughts and reflections, that without a little 'patience and energy just go down the drain ... and I'm not really a patient tipino ....) in a pile of shards, I like to think alLaPulce like Master Yoda, and I train to be an impossible task: to use the whole ' energy of the universe for ... have all the patience to go with using and listening to the "yes" and "no" when ... right!
Great Silvietta.
type I repeat the mantra things she wrote, and I think that if she did it, I can do well myself. Because sometimes, among mothers, this message goes unnoticed today, more than ever, we can talk, complain, write to what is sometimes hellish survive certain aspects of motherhood. But all this only serves to legitimize the viscera: we forget to think that "we can do." You can help. It can be argued, even remotely. One can become, through motherhood, better people.
And then everything resume flowing, not perfectly, of course, but smooth. It is the way forward.
Congratulations Bry: two of us. We'll make it.
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