Nice severity of motherhood

• Pleasant severity of maternal

Nice severity of motherhood

Christine Shaw, a popular blogger, writer and a mother, in an article that talks about the Burden, that falls to each mother. Yes, it is sometimes hard, but it's definitely worth it.

We are sure that you need to appreciate every moment spent with children.

3 kg - a weight that I lost in the first trimester of pregnancy. I could not eat anything but cereal, waffles, cakes and various other pastries. I even could not imagine that during pregnancy may feel sick for weeks on end. I thought it would never end. I moved like a skating rink, curled up, I was lying on the bed, hoping that with the child doing well and he is healthy.

4 kg weighed my son, according to doctors. They said that he krupnovat for me. In the last month of pregnancy, I went for a visit every week. This I was completely satisfied, I could make sure that the baby is all right, and less worried.

3 kilos 600 grams - the weight of my son's birth. I carefully stick it's head when he finally gave into my hands, it was almost weightless. I clumsily changed his diapers, swaddled and rocked. Sometimes I rocked him for hours so that the hands are numb. By the end of the day for even inexperienced mother of a newborn baby weight becomes too heavy a burden. But week after week, my hands became stronger and more confident. 5 kilos I lost weight after giving birth, when, due to the pile pulled hard cases I did not even have time to eat properly. These 5 kilograms consisted of all my fears and worries and reflected on my body. At the same time, the weight of my son, too, reached the level of 5 kg.

Now he weighs 20 kilos, my five year old son. 20 kilograms, full of love, tenderness, intelligence and curiosity in the small lump of energy.

This morning he reached out to me, asked to hand. He seemed so big, if I look at it through a magnifying glass. I picked it up, though it requires more effort.

I could say, "No, you're a big boy."

"No, go feet."

"No, I have hands full."

But I did not say that. I'm juggling bags and contrived, taking his son in his arms. I inhale this incredible kids smell and hold it firmly. I know I enjoy those moments I have left a little longer. I like to see how it grows, but I'm not prepared for the fact that his childhood gives way to a more mature period. But as it grows, grow, and I - through experience and time I was learning to be a better mother.

Son often asks him to ride on the back. And I ride. Always skate. Until then, until I can pick it up, I'll do it. It becomes more difficult, despite the fact that I train every day raising it for 5 years. The muscles in my hands is not the result of rare trips to the gym. I try to remember the face of my son, which is constantly changing, it's a wonderful time flies so fast. I touch his delicate baby skin and try to capture the feeling in my memory, because soon he will not want me to do that. I always take the opportunity to hold her son's hand and take him in her arms when he so requests.

I allow him to grab me and ruffle my hair. I'm not complaining as he pressed close to me on a hot day watching cartoons. I do not mind when he relies on me or holding the hand for lunch. Because very soon it will cease to do so.

My head is constantly spinning the idea: "Once you put it on the ground and more will never again lift up." Because he will outgrow it. And me too.

So I cant and lift it. And I want to keep it as long as possible