It’s so darn easy to put my kids first. But in order to be a better mom, I know I needed to change that.
As a mom, it feels like my life revolves around these little people and their big needs. And it probably feels that way because, realistically, it does. They are, without a doubt, the main focus of my attention.
Because they demand it, really. They need me — my time, my energy, my help, my guidance, my presence, my mad making-three-different-meals-they-refuse-to-eat skills — far more than anyone else has ever needed me.
But, I’ll be completely honest: I believe, in the depths of my heart, that it’s a mistake to put them first.
Whoa. I know, I know. Just hear me out, though.
Because before I’d even thought seriously about “starting a family,” beyond those idyllic teenage dreams of what my very own fairy tale of a life might look like one day, I started a family. And I’m not quite sure why we don’t see it that way.
When we talk about “starting a family,” we’re always referring to welcoming little ones, to the crazy, beautiful, messy journey of parenthood.
But on that picturesque August afternoon, with brilliant sunbeams dancing across the lake and the majestic mountains encircling us in their embrace, our family began.
We read our vows.
We cut the cake.
He danced with his mom and I with my dad.
And we became a family. Just the two of us.
That’s how it all began — where this whole thing started — with the two of us.
I lose sight of that, though, quite often. Too often.
Because my husband plain and simply doesn’t need me as much as my kids do. So I give and give and give of myself, day in and day out, for my children thinking that it will make me a better mom.
It’s natural, really, to give them my all and him only what’s left over.